Amulet of the Sun
by Corvus
Summary: The year is 14296. Four years after Gunbuster's reappearance, the solar system is once again threatened. Amano Kazumi and Takaya Noriko must face the unknown one more time.
1. Part One

GUNBUSTER: AMULET OF THE SUN  
written by Corvus  
  
Part One: Amulet of the Sun  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
On a bright summer afternoon, Amano Kazumi stood amid a   
field of green grass, bright wildflowers and human beings, her   
eyes trained on the clear azure sky overhead. Soft breezes   
scented with natural perfume stirred her dark blue-slate hair as   
they whispered their way into the grove of oak, ash and maple   
that stood some two hundred meters distant, like quiet shepherds   
overseeing the gathering.  
  
(I can barely breathe,) she thought. (I can't believe   
Noriko is actually going through with this. And all these   
people... Here to watch their hero fall from the sky.   
Sensationalism.) Many things had changed since the first half of   
the twenty-first century, but the human need for a show was quite   
evidently not one of them. Twenty-First Century or Hundred   
Forty-Third, it was the same. (I should have tried to stop her.   
Should have said something to make her change her mind. Surely   
there was something else should could have done for aention.   
This is... insane!) Over three hundred people had gathered here   
in the field to witness the event. Some of them entertained   
themselves watching the preparations of the recovery crew   
bustling around the company hover-trailer, readying coolant   
tanks, hoses and medical equipment. Police contained the throng   
with ease for the time being, but Kazumi wondered if the order   
would hold.  
  
Standing immediately to her left was Gerald Hanes. The   
walnut-skinned, burly, salt-and-pepper haired Canamerican man's   
thick brows furrowed above his brown eyes. Gerald considered   
himself Noriko and Kazumi's adoptive uncle, their link to sanity   
in the tossing sea of celebrity into which the Gunbuster pilots   
had fallen when they appeared out of subspace four years   
previously -- and nearly thirteen thousand years gone from the   
era of their births. "I know what you're thinking," Gerald   
grumbled in his heavily accented Hango. "And I'm thinking the   
same thing. Crazy girl."  
  
Despite the strong fear racing through her heart, Kazumi   
smiled as she always did when Gerald read her mind like that.   
"But if we had tried to stop her," she replied, "she would have   
just gone ahead and done it anyway. This way she thinks she has   
our blessing because she has our refusal to argue with her."  
  
Hanes spat something in Canamerican that Kazumi assumed was   
a violent curse; it seemed to be his invective of choice in   
situations like these. She'd asked her Canamerican language   
tutor once what the translation was and the woman had simply   
turned flaming red. "Being a hero's gone to her head," he   
continued, once again in Hango.  
  
Four years ago Kazumi and Noriko both had received a rude   
culture shock that made their return from deep space in 2032 seem   
nothing more than a moment's discomfort, a passing itch. That   
return had brought them back to a world a decade older than they   
had left it, four months previous in subjective time. Over   
twelve millennia had passed since Buster Machine Three's   
activation and collapse. Twelve thousand two hundred years and   
more since they had heard Jung's promise to welcome them home.   
By some unknown miracle the fire-haired and flame-tempered   
Soviet's promise had been kept in the form of a massive pattern   
of lights visible from orbit, calling, "Welcome Home"...  
  
In all those years countless nations rose and fell. Gone   
were America, Mexico, India, the Soviet Union, Japan, China,   
France, Germany, Brazil, Argentina. Come and gone was the United   
Europe, the Kingdom of Africa, the Republic of Antarctica and the   
Union of Canadian and American Provinces. Too many states to   
name had passed through the world's sight. In this era there was   
the resurrected Canamerica, stretching over much of what the   
Gunbuster pilots had known as Canada and the United States.   
There was Avalon, in what used to be the British Isles.   
Balliwalla, in Australia. Amazonia in South America. So much   
change. Japan and China had long ago lost their identities and   
become parts of the greater whole of Ryulung, and even their   
languages had merged -- Hanyu and Nihongo and become Hango, the   
language she was speaking now with Gerald. It hadn't taken her   
long to learn and she was told her accent was almost native now.  
  
Kazumi's grasp of Canamerican, a tongue forged primarily   
from Canadian and American English with a healthy dash of old   
Japanese, multiple Native American languages and a pinch of   
European dialects, was better than Gerald's Hango, but he   
insisted on forcing his way with the Asiatic polyglot. He was as   
much a fighter as Noriko. She said, "Have you ever thought about   
doing this?"  
  
"Orbit-diving?" he demanded in Canamerican, his squint   
widening and language reverting in his shock. "At my age? You   
must be joking!"  
  
"You're only eighty-two, Gerald, you've got half a life   
ahead of you." Advances in medical science and environmental   
relations had increased the effective life-span of human beings   
to a century and a half. Noriko's spluttering disbelief had   
lasted for ten minutes when she had learned how old Hanes was.   
An eighty-two year old man was a revered and elderly family   
patriarch in her mind, not a healthy productive man in his middle   
years. It had become something of a joke between Gerald and his   
"adopted niece" since then.  
  
The speckle-bearded man harumphed. "Pretty young thing   
like you shouldn't be wasting her time trying to make a fogey   
like me feel better."  
  
When Kazumi had left Earth the last time she had left   
behind a dead husband and a cadre of schoolgirls who wanted   
nothing more than their beloved Coach to come home safely. How   
ironic, she had thought then, that the mantle of Coach had passed   
from husband to wife. She had been an adult then, a little less   
than a decade from beginning her own middle age... and now she   
was almost a girl again, a young woman. She would live twice as   
long as she had expected and have twice as many opportunities as   
before. (Oh, Koichiro... Coach... I miss you so much. I wish   
you could see all this. Are you looking down on me now? Will   
you watch out for Noriko?) She looked back up to the sky. It   
was getting close to the time. (You and Jung... I think you   
will.) Her hand found the steady comfort Gerald's and the strong   
Canamerican squeezed briefly. "She'll be okay."  
  
"She'd better, or I'm gonna turn her over my knee..."  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Takaya Noriko had already taken the time to talk to the   
long-gone spirits of Coach and Jung, Kimiko and Takami, and her   
father. Now it was time to focus. She was about to jump out of   
a spaceplane and tumble three hundred kilometers to the surface   
of the planet below. Every detail played through her mind as it   
had done hundreds of times before, since she had decided to take   
up this challenge. After all she'd traveled to the center of the   
galaxy and wiped out an entire alien nemesis. How bad could this   
be?  
  
Truth be told, Noriko was terrified. She was glad the man   
she would be jumping with couldn't see her face inside her   
shielded helmet. In an attempt to calm her nerves she glanced   
around the Ready Chamber of the orbital shuttle. Maybe it was   
just the dive suit that was making her feel so confined. There'd   
be plenty of open space soon enough...  
  
"Two minutes, Noriko," her Dive Assistant said over the   
intersuit communication link. Li Kim Akira had logged fifty   
orbital jumps without a single mishap and had recently graduated   
to his current position within Excel. The extreme-challenge   
corporation offered its services to people worldwide, granting   
them a chance to go beyond the impossible to the utterly   
unthinkable and come back safely. Deep-sea diving on   
Europa (once a moon of the lost Jupiter, now stable in its new   
human-designed orbit around Saturn), hiking across Ishtar and   
Aphrodite Terra on the blast-furnace surface of Venus, and   
skydiving from Earth orbit -- these were the kinds of challenges   
Excel gave to their willing clients every day. The dive was the   
easiest, most common and by far the safest of Excel's packages.  
  
Noriko privately doubted her own sanity. But the   
spikey-blonde-haired Akira had insisted it was safe, and Excel   
was willing to give her the chance for this jump completely free   
of charge. The media attention was worth infinitely more than   
the fee for the dive. Akira was looking at another promotion   
fairly quickly for landing the world's biggest public-relations   
whale, he had been told. The Dive Assistant was doing everything   
he could to make sure nothing could possibly go wrong. Regional   
Dive Leader at twenty-one! Unbelievable! And they were trusting   
him with their most important client ever right now!  
  
Akira had met Noriko six months ago at a publicity dinner   
in Seoul. He had been there to put out feelers for possible   
clients -- the cost of an expedition to Venus or Titan was   
astronomical, from the point of view of a normal person -- and   
couldn't believe his luck when the Gunbuster pilots made a   
surprise appearance. He tried to deny to himself that he had   
been thinking about something quite different from money when he   
had seen Takaya Noriko in her white sleeveless gown, tried to   
insist that he had been thinking about the company the whole   
time, but he knew he was lying. Still, not only had he gotten to   
talk to Noriko then, he had convinced her to think about taking   
up an Excel challenge, and trained her in orbit-diving when she   
finally agreed. This would probably be the last time he would   
ever see her, but what a way to go. Falling with her for three   
hundred kilometers. Maybe she would think it was romantic.  
  
Once more Noriko checked the seals on the brilliant silvery   
suit she wore. The materials used in the multi-layer suit would   
protect her from the friction-heat of atmospheric reentry and had   
originally been developed for firefighters to use in situations   
where their normal protection would simply not be enough. Her   
helmet's visor was specially glazed to keep out the unfiltered   
rays of the sun and lent a golden cast to everything she saw. On   
the ground she would have to wait while a recovery crew doused   
her in special coolants, as the outside of the suit would still   
be hot from her dive, but inside a powerful cooling system would   
keep her comfortable.  
  
"Final check, Noriko. You remember what to do if the   
insulation between the third and fourth layers fails in any spot,   
right?" With a single safeword the insulation would be flooded   
with emergency coolant and sealant by the suit's maintenance   
system. "And if your primary coolant unit fails?" The secondary   
coolant unit would be placed on ready stand-by five seconds   
before jumping, and could come on-line with another safeword.   
"And if your primary chute fails to deploy?" The most basic   
backup system of all, developed when parachuting had still been   
young, was the secondary parachute. "Okay. Let's get into the   
launchers." Akira tapped the control panel next to him and   
opened the entry hatches for their individual launch tubes, then   
helped Noriko climb through the circular hatch.   
  
The initial thrust out of orbit would be provided by,   
essentially, shooting them out the side of the spaceplane like   
human torpedoes with low-speed electromagnetic launchers. The   
pilot, once signaled by Akira that they had entered the tubes,   
would roll the craft onto its side relative to the planet and   
"aim" them. The claustrophobic dive-launcher system weeded out   
most of the candidates who hadn't fallen pray to accute   
acrophobia or panic attacks by this point; Noriko had a full   
thirty seconds to change her mind once she climbed head-first   
into the meter-wide tube before she was gripped by the launcher's   
field. "Over" her head the outer hatch of the launcher slid   
aside and she could make out the gleaming blue and white of   
Earth, waiting for her. Her stomach clenched. She wondered if   
Akira heard her sudden whimper.  
  
Akira's voice in her helmet counted off the final seconds.   
Noriko closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. "Five...   
four... three... two... one... launch!" Then she was hurled out   
of the spaceplane and into the vast emptiness beyond. Her   
innards nearly rebelled against the sudden acceleration and   
gradually increasing sensation of freefall.  
  
"Noriko? Noriko, can you read me?"  
  
"I hear you, Akira."  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
Her eyes opened and briefly took in the vast panorama of   
Earth laid own below her without really seeing it. It didn't   
seem to be moving, but a glance back showed her that the   
spaceplane was falling far behind. Or, rather, she was falling   
far from it. Assured that they were on their way Noriko turned   
her attention back to the planet and truly saw its glory for the   
first time. All her fear vanished in that instant.  
  
The realization that there was nothing between her and this   
beautiful vastness except her dive suit struck Noriko like a bolt   
from Heaven. No RX Trainer, no Gunbuster, not the transparisteel   
viewport of a space station. Not this time. Just her and Earth,   
the most wonderful place in the universe. "It's...   
incredible..."  
  
"You'll remember this for the rest of your life. And just   
think, I get to do this all the time. Here, link up with me."   
Their parallel launch tubes had been so close together that the   
divers could reach out and link hands, then turn themselves   
head-to-head. They would remain that way for most of their fall.   
Noriko held out her hand for Akira to take; she didn't want to   
look away from the world below even for a second. The Dive   
Assistant linked with her and slowly maneuvered around. "You   
never did tell me why you decided to do this."  
  
"I... I guess I figured I could do anything if I tried."  
  
Akira's laugh was warm and hearty. "You bet! That's the   
spirit! How do you feel?"  
  
"I feel... I feel alive."  
  
"You're almost three hundred kilometers off the ground, you   
know."  
  
Noriko chuckled. It didn't seem to matter. "I know."  
  
"Man, you've got to be the best diver I've ever dropped   
with. Every single other one has practically peed in his suit at   
this point. And you? You're laughing with me. This is great!"  
  
She was reminded of another fall, in another time and   
place... Gunbuster dropping into the core of the Black Hole   
Bomb. Just her and Kazumi. After the fury of the battle to   
protect Buster Machine Three the silent time the two women had   
shared was like the blessing of God. Noriko remembered how they   
had made one final pact with Jung and said their goodbyes.   
Kazumi had reminisced on her life with Coach. They had made   
plans for their lives after returning to Earth. They didn't know   
how long it would take, and it didn't matter then. It was their   
time.  
  
Now, in this long drop from orbit, she had another friend.   
Akira pulled one hand away from hers long enough to give her an   
enthusiastic thumbs up. She responded in kind, then linked hands   
with him once more. "You know... He's still up here somewhere,   
out in the middle of all this."  
  
"He? He who?" Akira asked.  
  
Inside her helmet Noriko grinned. "Gunbuster. It's become   
a person in my mind... We always said that it had his soul,   
Coach's soul. Coach and Gunbuster, they're one and the same to   
me. And he's still up here in space, orbiting Earth. Watching   
us. I wish I could see him. Must be lonely up here without a   
friend."  
  
(Well, if you look at it that way...) "I guess you're   
right," he agreed. "I know we never really talked about   
Gunbuster and what you did... I figured you'd talked about it to   
so many people you were sick of it."  
  
Noriko chewed on her lip as memories swept through her   
mind. The first time she had ever piloted Gunbuster, to save the   
Exelion from a surprise alien attack. Gunbuster standing tall on   
the bow of that proud cosmoship to destroy the alien fleet at   
Raioh. That long descent into the compressed planet Jupiter...   
"Yeah. I always thought you were really sweet for treating me   
like a normal person."  
  
She heard Akira's sudden swallow and fought down a chuckle   
as he spluttered, "R-really?"  
  
"Yeah. But if you want to ask now, I'll tell you."  
  
"I don't know where to start!" Akira couldn't believe his   
good fortune. He would have traded his position with the company   
for a chance to talk about Noriko's exploits. Well, almost. But   
he would have given a lot, and now she was offering to tell him   
all about it. A million questions caused a traffic-jam in his   
head.  
  
"Well, let me tell you the story then, the way I remember   
it..." Noriko began with her father's ship, the Luxion, and as   
they fell to the blue planet below told him the tale of the war   
against the aliens. Reentry friction began to burn around them   
as she spoke of that first terrible battle, when Smith had never   
come back. It burned all through her recounting of Jung's   
challenge to her and her breakdown, her defense of Exelion and   
the return to Earth. She didn't even notice that she and Akira   
were glowing, human fireballs in the heavens now. On she spoke,   
telling of the hero's death of Exelion and the shockwave which   
followed. Of boarding the Eltreum, that gleaming-white paladin   
of hope, and taking the war to the aliens. Of Buster Machine   
Three and the final battle. By the time she finished the sky was   
blue all around them.  
  
"I can't even imagine living through all that," Akira said,   
"to say nothing of being with someone who actually did it." The   
reverie broken he realized how far they had actually fallen.   
"Oh, wow. Look at your altimeter, we're only ten kilometers up   
now!" Their parabolic trajectory had brought them over the   
island of Honshu. Once their parachutes deployed their downrange   
speed would be checked as well as their descent. "How are you   
feeling?"  
  
Noriko took stock of her condition. She was sweating, but   
she would survive. "Suit's a bit warm but I'm okay. You?"  
  
"Never been better." She could hear the grin in his voice.   
"Hey, what're you gonna do after this?"  
  
She hadn't given it much thought, honestly. She'd probably   
have to put up with Kazumi and Gerard's alternating exasperation   
and relief for weeks, at least. To say nothing of her continued   
celebrity. She got to spend very little time at all in her home   
outside old Kyoto. But just maybe she could manage to finagle   
some time to herself. "I don't know."  
  
"Would you like to..." Akira fell silent, and when he   
didn't speak up again she began to worry.  
  
"Akira? Are you okay?"  
  
"...go out some time?" he finally squeezed out.  
  
Now it was Noriko's turn to be shocked again. No one had   
ever asked her out. Ever. She'd never even been kissed! "I...   
um... yeah... Yes. I would."  
  
The Dive Assistant whispered, "Oh wow..." and then coughed.   
"Um, great. We're gonna have recovery crew all over us when we   
land and you'll probably be swept away by your uncle and Ms.   
Amano, so... you still have my company card?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"You can call me at that number, any time."  
  
"I'll do that." It was kinda sad to realize what Akira   
must be feeling, pure shock that he would ever ask one of the two   
most famous women in the world out on a date -- never mind that   
she agreed. Still, he had been so considerate of her feelings   
before. Maybe he was entitled to a little hero worship too.   
"We're almost there."  
  
They fell in silence from there, each with their own   
thoughts. Their parachutes deployed flawlessly on their   
heat-resistant cords to slow their descent, leaving them captured   
stars burning in the sky. As they neared the field where they   
would touch down Noriko spotted Kazumi and Gerard standing off by   
themselves. She hoped they weren't angry with her.  
  
As soon as they landed, their boots scorching footprints   
into the ground as they ran off the last of their momentum, the   
recovery crew pounced, spraying coolant over her suit and the   
ground in a great hissing cloud. She counted to four hundred as   
she had been instructed, and then gratefully popped the seals on   
her helmet. The gathered crowd, held back by police, erupted   
into cheers. Akira took her hand and held it high, shouting,   
"All right! Yeah!" He thought about kissing her on the cheek,   
then decided his boss would have his head. "Call me," he   
mouthed, and walked away toward the company trailer to get out of   
the suit.  
  
Police let Kazumi and Gerard pass through the line. The   
older Gunbuster pilot took in the sight of Noriko, helmet in   
hand, hair slicked on her head with sweat and an exuberant grin   
on her face, and her own expression of worry disappeared. "How   
was it?"  
  
"You gotta try it, Kazumi! It was amazing!"  
  
"Oh, no. Not her too," protested Gerard. "You nearly gave   
me a heart attack as it was, young lady!"  
  
Noriko laughed and reached up to brush hair off her   
forehead, then thought better of the suit glove on her hand. "I   
gotta get out of this thing. Be right back!"  
  
Akira was gone by the time she got to the trailer --   
evidently he hadn't bothered to shower, wanting to get away from   
all the fuss -- but he had left a handwritten note for her. It   
would have to wait. The crew helped her out of the suit then   
left her to strip out of the bodysuit she wore underneath, shower   
and dress. Only when her hair was dry did she finally pick up   
the note.  
  
"Noriko,  
  
"Without a doubt you're the most wonderful person I've ever   
been on a dive with. Sorry I went into fanboy mode up there, I   
hope you don't think less of me because of it. I'll make it up,   
I promise! Thanks for such a great day and I'll talk to you real   
soon, okay?"  
  
It was signed with the character for his name and a   
cartoony little spikey-haired figure in a dive-suit giving a   
thumbs-up. Another smile lit up Noriko's face. She couldn't   
count how many times she had grinned today. Without a doubt, all   
the sleepless nights spent worrying about the dive had been worth   
it.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
A silver and blue vortex of cosmic energy burst into life   
high above the planet and disgorged a silver metallic sliver   
before collapsing in on itself once more. The planetary shuttle,   
bearing the markings of the Excel corporation, confirmed its   
arrival with the LaGrange point Aurora Station and set on course   
for docking.  
  
On board the shuttle, Erde Paveltova closed her handheld   
computer's case and gathered her thoughts. In just half an hour   
she would be meeting with her superiors -- her true superiors.   
What she had to tell them was not pleasant. It could, in fact,   
spell the doom of humanity unless a miracle intervened. Erde   
glanced out the porthole at Earth, but she only saw her own   
reflection. So like her mother, her father had always said.   
Straight light brown hair trimmed carefully an inch above her   
shoulders, hazel eyes gazing out over a round nose and full lips.   
Everything she did was so like her mother.  
  
Erde's parents had both worked, as she did, for the secret   
guardians of humanity, and they had passed that legacy on to her.   
It had never occured to Erde to protest. Pavel Alexeivich and   
Gita Sabado had dedicated their whole lives to Aegis as their   
parents had before them. From the moment of her birth Erde had   
been part of the hidden globe-spanning organization.  
  
"This shuttle will dock with Aurora Station in four   
minutes. Please return your seats and tray tables to their   
upright and locked positions. Please secure any loose baggage."  
  
What Erde had to report could conceivably cost her   
everything she had ever worked for. It had been her   
responsibility to ensure the functionality of the Cytherian   
Amulet, and its sudden and irrevocable failure placed the entire   
burden for the success of Project Ra on the shoulders of Terra   
Division. In an odd way it was comforting that there had been   
almost as great a failure on the part of Terra Division just a   
week ago. Almost as great. Terra had managed to recover from   
the accident and could conceivably try again. Aphrodite Division   
was lost.  
  
Earth tilted away as the gleaming shuttle began to rotate   
about its long axis, matching the spin of Aurora. Then metallic   
walls swallowed the craft as it entered the main docking bay.   
The shuttle touched down and connected with an egress tunnel   
ramp. The interior address system beeped twice and the steward's   
voice said, "This shuttle is now docked. Welcome to Aurora   
Station." Erde ignored the tourist information that followed and   
quickly made her way off the craft. She had no belongings except   
her computer and she wasn't sure she'd even have that soon.  
  
She could hear her father's voice, his trademark ancient   
Russian fatalistic stoicism, saying, "Yes, things are very bad.   
But at least it cannot get any worse." At which point her   
European mother would simply nod, unable to decide between German   
stubborn pride and Iberian passionate hope. As Erde approached   
Customs she wondered what her parents were doing, back on Earth.   
One way or another she'd have to call them.  
  
Upon seeing her identification card Customs let her pass   
immediately. One of the tan-uniformed officials, a small   
blue-eyed man that seemed to be here every time Erde was to   
deliver a report, nodded slightly to her and turned away to   
disappear into the throng. She suspected his true duty was to   
watch for her arrival and report it. (Well, they know I'm   
coming. No chance to stall. Might as well get this over with.)   
Erde drew in a deep breath for courage and made her way to the   
transport tube that would take her to Excel's offices in the   
corporate zone.  
  
As she settled into a comfortable plush charcoal-hued seat   
aboard the transport car, she noticed a familiar face also   
boarding. Martin Tanger, the commander of Terra Division. His   
square chin and solid jawline were clean-shaven for once, his   
unruly mop of black hair was trimmed and combed, and he was even   
wearing a suit, but there was no mistaking his trademark eyes --   
left one blue, right one green. He liked the unsettling effect   
it had on people, he had told her during one of their several   
previous encounters, which was why he refused to have the   
condition genetically treated. Tanger spotted Erde and dropped   
his trim frame into the chair on her right. "What's a cute girl   
like you doing in a place like this?" he said with a mischievous   
wink.  
  
"Probably the same thing you are," she replied, her voice   
drab. Erde knew Tanger's flirting was completely innocent -- his   
partner Derek would have a fit if it wasn't -- but she wasn't in   
the mood. "You'll hear about it soon enough.  
  
"Uh-oh, I don't like the sound of this."  
  
"You'll like it even less when you hear what I have to say.   
My head's gonna roll, more than likely." Somehow it felt a   
little better to admit it. Or maybe it was admitting it to   
Martin Tanger. He might be scruffy -- most of the time -- and he   
might be a flirt but he was also a good man and an excellent   
listener. Which, Erde suspected, was why he made such a good   
Division leader as well. The car's hatch closed, and they were   
the only two aboard. Out of habit Erde still dropped her voice   
to a whisper barely audible above the hum of the moving car as   
she said, "Aphrodite Division's in the tank."  
  
Perhaps two seconds passed as Tanger considered all the   
reasons why his Division's sister project would be failing.   
There was only one, really, and when he came to that conclusion   
his face paled to a sickly yellowish-white. "No..."  
  
"Afraid so. I... don't know what we're gonna do now."  
  
Tanger swallowed repeatedly like a man fighting nausea.   
"Please tell me this is a joke, Erde. Please."  
  
Oh, how she wished she could. Her entire life, the hopes   
of everyone in Aphrodite Division and the future of the human   
race had died the moment the Cytherian Amulet failed in its   
latest activation test. "I'm sorry, Martin." She turned away   
from the pity she saw in those mismatched eyes. It didn't help.  
  
"There's got to be something Terra Division can do. I'll   
get right on it."  
  
"That's assuming," she told him sharply, "that Prime will   
permit it." Erde's conscience, wearing her mother's face,   
scowled in the back of her mind; it wasn't fair for her to take   
her frustrations out on Tanger. "If they do, I'll take whatever   
help you can give," she said quietly by way of apology.  
  
The rest of the transit passed in silence. The car dropped   
them off just outside the Excel station offices. Erde and Tanger   
flashed their identification to the desk clerk on their way past   
and pushed through the busy "customer relations room" beyond,   
ignoring the chatter of service representatives at their   
cluttered desks. They approached a featureless metal door   
accompanied by a card-reader. A sensor system detected their   
presences and, once they passed their identifaction cards through   
the machine, opened the door to the small lift beyond. There   
were only two buttons -- "up" and "down". Tanger pushed the   
"down" key and leaned against the side wall. "It's gonna be all   
right, Erde."  
  
"Isn't it always?" she said with a false smile. The lift   
stopped at the bottom and the door slid aside, opening onto a   
bare white corridor. Their footsteps echoed ominously as they   
approached the door at the other end. It was much like the   
first, a featureless gray surface, only this one was attended by   
a black palm-scanner which verified their identities and allowed   
them passage to the chamber beyond.  
  
The room was perhaps forty meters to a side and twenty   
meters tall. Overhead lighting clustered in the center of the   
ceiling failed to properly illuminate the vast expanse of   
dark-green pseudomarble tiles. In the center, underneath the   
lights, stood a round synthwood mahogany table ten meters in   
diameter, surrounded by twenty black chairs. Eighteen of those   
chairs were currently occupied. Three of them held the most   
powerful people in the solar system, collectively known as Aegis   
Prime.  
  
The low buzz of conversation thrumming through the room   
died as Erde and Tanger approached the table. Neither of them   
sat until the ebony-skinned Aegis Alpha, Lily St. Croix,   
acknowledged their presence with a nod. "Now that Ms. Paveltova   
and Mr. Tanger have arrived, we may begin. Ms. Paveltova, your   
previous message stated that Aphrodite Division was in danger but   
did not specify what from. While I commend your circumspection I   
must also comment that you could have sent a messenger by now.   
What is the situation?"  
  
Erde stood from her chair and felt her mouth dry out. "I   
regret to inform you that..." Her voice cracked. "I regret to   
inform you that the Cytherian Amulet has failed."  
  
Confusion exploded around the table. The two-meter-tall   
Aegis Beta shot out of his chair on St. Croix's left, an   
impressive sight. Jani Schwartzwald was not given to hysterics.   
In fact, he spent many meetings without saying a single word. So   
when he shouted his outraged response, almost at the top of his   
lungs, Erde nearly fell back into her chair. "You were   
responsible for the Amulet's upkeep! You assured us just two   
weeks ago that it was in perfect working condition!" Silence   
dropped onto the assembly.  
  
"Sit down, Beta," said the man from Alpha's other side said   
firmly. Takashima Mindao, Aegis Gamma, focused his cutting black   
gaze on his fuming associate until the massive man regained his   
seat. "Ms. Paveltova, Aphrodite Division has reported success   
after success until now. Kindly explain to us what happened."  
  
"Thank you, sir," said Erde. She wondered if anyone else   
heard it as a sigh of relief. "I have here the test data. With   
your permission I will link it to the projection system."  
  
"Proceed," said St. Croix.  
  
Erde opened her computer and keyed in the command for it to   
join with the room's holographic projection system. The overhead   
lights dimmed, casting the entire gathering into gloom; then   
brilliant glowing graphs appeared in midair over the table.  
  
"As you can see," Erde narrated, "everything was nominal at   
the beginning of the last activation test. Specifications were   
matched and exceeded and the patterns were perfectly in synch   
with the previous test. At thirteen-thirty activation was   
confirmed. Twenty seconds later fluctuations began to appear in   
both the anti-gravaton generator and the tangential gravitic wave   
node. We were unable to determine the source and attempted to   
shut down, but here," she said, pointing to a glaring red   
sequence only a few of them actually understood, "you can see the   
disconnect signal failing to be processed. Then, ten seconds   
later, the Amulet failed. All further attempts to restart have   
had no success." Erde sat once more, back stiff, eyes focused on   
the Prime trio.  
  
The glowing holograms disappeared and the lights returned   
to their normal brilliance. "We should have expected this," said   
Frank Knight, a Canamerican research director. "The Amulets are   
over twelve thousand years old and the secrets of their   
construction and operation died millenia ago. We're lucky   
Project Ra came this far."  
  
"Based on the failure of Operation Lazarus," St. Croix   
intoned, "and now the loss of the Cytherian Amulet, Project Ra   
has met the criteria for critical failure." Her dark gaze swept   
around the table from face to face. Aegis Prime had reached the   
conclusion after Lazarus' failure that one more mishap would end   
the effort, and now that time had come. No one dared gainsay   
their decision, which made what she had to say next much easier.   
"In its place we are instituting Project Ragnarok."  
  
Tanger leaned forward in his chair. "Is it really that   
desperate, ma'am?" He turned to look at Erde for a moment, his   
off-colored eyes taking in her rigid refusal to collapse. "Terra   
Division can spare engineers. Using the specs from the Tellurian   
Amulet--"  
  
St. Croix cut him off. "We don't have time for that." The   
dark woman stood, commanding all attention to fall on her in that   
motion. "Project Ragnarok is effective immediately. Terra   
Division will continue with Project Lazarus and testing the   
Tellurian Amulet. Aphrodite Division will be relocated to Aurora   
Station, renamed Artemis Division and given the task of   
reclaiming the Gunbuster machine from orbit in secret. Terra and   
Artemis Divisions will continue to report directly to Aegis Prime   
through their Division leaders."  
  
"And the Pilots?" asked a political agent whose name Erde   
did not know.  
  
"That situation is being handled even as we speak," said   
Takashima. "Your Division commanders will be notified of the   
success of that particular project."  
  
"That is all," said St. Croix. "Any further details will   
be made available to your Division commanders. You are   
dismissed. Mr. Tanger, Ms. Paveltova, if you will remain a   
moment..."  
  
Since his outburst Schwartzwald had remained completely   
silent. The mountainous Aegis Beta wore a scowl like a   
stormfront on his face as the room emptied of all but Aegis Prime   
and the commanders of Terra and Artemis Divisions. (It doesn't   
help that the bad lighting makes him look like some kind of giant   
out of Norse myth,) thought Erde. (It's not as if the Amulet's   
failure was my fault. We did the best we could...)  
  
"Erde? Are you gonna be all right?" asked Tanger. Erde   
blinked and noticed her cheeks were damp. She hurriedly wiped   
her face on her sleeve before answering him.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"If you need anything..."  
  
She sniffed once, cleared her throat and sneered at the   
world to regain her composure. "You'll be asking me for help   
soon enough."  
  
"I'm sure I will," Tanger told her with amusement.  
  
St. Croix moved away from her chair on the other side of   
the table and walked around toward them. "Thank you for staying.   
Ms. Paveltova, we do not blame you for the failure of the Amulet,   
despite my colleague's outburst." The dark woman gave   
Schwartzwald a long, scathing silent rebuke. "You have served   
Aegis with honor and distinction and we need you more than ever."  
  
"Told you so," Tanger stage-whispered.  
  
Erde blinked several times in surprise at the man's sheer   
impishness. St. Croix chuckled, a sound neither of them had ever   
heard before, and said, "As for you, Mr. Tanger, we expect your   
stellar performance to continue. Operation Lazarus must not   
fail."  
  
Tanger nodded. "Doing my best, ma'am. Bringing someone   
out of cryostasis after twelve thousand years isn't easy,   
especially since we don't really understand how it was done in   
the first place, but we'll have her awake and fighting."  
  
"I don't have any doubts. Jung Freud put her trust in   
Aegis all those ages ago. We can't let her down."  
  
If Erde hadn't been sitting at that point, she would have   
fallen. Jung Freud? Cryostasis? That was a myth! Operation   
Lazarus was supposed to be Terra Division's code name for working   
with the Tellurian Amulet. "How... Martin, why didn't you..."  
  
"Mr. Tanger was not permitted to tell you the details of   
Operation Lazarus for security reasons," Takashima said from   
across the table. Tanger shrugged in helpless agreement, though   
he was clearly amused by the whole situation. "Aegis Prime has   
decided that, in light of the implementation of Project Ragnarok,   
it was time for you to know the whole story."  
  
"But..."  
  
Tanger touched her shoulder briefly, steadying her with a   
friendly smile. "It goes something like this. You're familiar   
with how Aegis developed the Amulets to protect Earth, Venus and   
the larger moons from the Raioh blast wave. They also had   
developed a few other experimental technologies, all of which   
were discarded over the years as unnecessary, potentially   
threatening to humanity's stability. All except one. And the   
only time it was ever used was when Jung Freud made her fervent   
wish to find a way to wait for her friends to return. Aegis   
approached her and offered her that chance. Cryostasis."  
  
"It wasn't entirely altruistic," Takashima added. "Aegis   
knew that it might eventually need someone with her skills and   
fighting spirit in the future. By putting Freud into cryostasis   
Aegis gained control over her future. Aegis has waited over   
twelve thousand years for the right moment to bring her back, and   
that time is now."  
  
This was all... too much. Erde felt a headache bearing   
down on her. The legendary hero Jung Freud had been immortalized   
in stories since her return from space with the victorious Earth   
fleet. To know that the Russian was still alive, in cold sleep,   
and would conceivably be awake very soon... She was definitely   
going to have to take some time to herself to absorb this. "You   
mentioned the Pilots. Takaya Noriko and Amano Kazumi?"  
  
Schwartzwald finally broke his silence. "Correct," he   
rumbled. "We have an operative close to them. Once Gunbuster is   
firmly in our grasp we will bring them into Aegis. We have no   
doubt they will agree to pilot it again."  
  
Three living legends at once. Erde could see the wisdom in   
Aegis' ages-long secrecy. The entire world would be in a frenzy   
at the slightest hint of Jung Freud's return. And as for why   
Aphrodite Division -- no, it was Artemis Division now, she   
corrected herself -- would have to find a way to reclaim and   
rebuild Gunbuster itself completely out of the public eye... The   
thought was so terrifying it refused to form in her mind. "No   
doubt, sir. We won't fail."  
  
The giant man pierced her with his gaze. "I know."   
Somewhere deep inside Erde hoped this was Schwartzwald's way of   
showing his faith in her.  
  
"Project Ragnarok will test us all, but we're certain of   
our success," said St. Croix. "Ms. Paveltova, you should return   
to Venus immediately and begin the transfer of your Division.   
Aegis Prime will remain on Aurora Station to await your arrival."  
  
And that was definitely that. Taking her cue Erde stood   
and nodded to the three members of Aegis Prime, then made her way   
toward the exit. Tanger stood to follow but was stopped by   
Takashima. Erde heard as the door closed, "About this impending   
marriage of yours..." She hadn't even known that Martin and   
Derek had gotten engaged. Her lips twitched in a faint frown.   
That little sneak! Probably didn't want everyone congratulating   
him. Well, she'd show him, especially if they would be working   
closer together.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Persistent beeping roused Kazumi from a light doze,   
interrupting her hitherto-blissfully silent sunbathing. Her eyes   
drifted open behind her dark sunglasses and she sat up on the   
form-sensitive lounging couch to reach for her phone. The   
couch's sun-warmed surface shifted under her weight to match the   
changing curvature of her body. Where was that phone? It didn't   
seem to be on either side of the couch and yet... oh, there it   
was. Under her book. Well, she thought of it as a book;   
technically it was a "personal electronic data reader" loaded   
with library software. Kazumi fished the phone out from under   
the book and pushed the "receive" button. "Hello?"  
  
Noriko's excited voice reached her from the other end.   
"You're never gonna believe this, Kazumi. We've been invited to   
dinner."  
  
The younger woman wasn't given to strange fits of   
hysterics, so Kazumi reasoned this had to be more than yet   
another marriage proposal or Gerald bundling them off to some   
hole-in-the-wall in the middle of nowhere. She decided to have   
some fun. "Dinner, hmm? A date with that handsome young   
orbit-diver of yours?"  
  
"He is not--" Noriko began, ruffled.  
  
"Oh, so you found someone new?" interrupted Kazumi, her   
teasing continuing. "My, Noriko, you're certainly becoming a bit   
of a maneater."  
  
"Kazumi!"  
  
"I suppose he'd like to date us both, and we've been   
invited to go out with him to a high-class restaurant in Paris or   
Milan..." Kazumi bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing.  
  
Noriko grumbled for a moment before informing her, "We've   
been invited to be guests of honor at a dinner aboard the Cloud   
Angel."  
  
"The..." That brought the older woman's teasing to a dead   
halt. The luxury liner Cloud Angel was the most prestigious   
civilian ship in the solar system. No ordinary liner, the ship   
sailed the oceans of Saturn's cloudy face, offering its wealthy   
and powerful passengers an unmatched view. "Is this dinner just   
for us?"  
  
"Uh-uh. Excel's throwing this party for some of their   
clients, and we're on the list."  
  
Nevermind that Noriko hadn't paid for her orbital dive, and   
that Kazumi had nothing to do with it at all. "Who else will be   
there?"  
  
Noriko paused for a moment. "The ones I know for sure are   
Lina Van Dyne, that popular actress, and the son of the president   
of Avalon, I think his name is Charles? I had the guest list   
here a minute ago... Anyway. There's about ten other people   
besides you and me, and they said Gerald could come too. In fact   
he's the one who told me."  
  
Kazumi considered the reasons they would be invited to such   
an event. After four years the world was still ravenous for   
anything involving herself or Noriko. News, rumors, sound bites,   
pictures, it didn't matter. The most likely reason for this   
invitation that Kazumi could think of was that Excel was   
exploiting the general public's hunger and making itself look   
good by associating the Gunbuster pilots with its name. "You   
sound very excited. I take it you want to go?"  
  
"Yes," Noriko admitted. "I know you're probably tired of   
all the public appearances and all, so we don't have to go if you   
don't want to, but... I'd like to see the Cloud Angel." Well,   
that wasn't the only reason. She wanted to meet Lina Van Dyne,   
and if it was Excel, she might have a chance to see Akira again.   
"What do you think?"  
  
"We'll be swimming in paparazzi, you know."  
  
"I'm used to it by now," the younger woman lied. She   
couldn't stand it, but it was all part of being who she was.   
Maybe she'd truly get used to it some day. "Wait, does that mean   
you'll go?"  
  
Even if she hadn't wanted a chance to board the famous   
luxury liner, Kazumi knew she would have agreed just because of   
the enthusiasm in her friend's voice. "Certainly. When do we   
leave?"  
  
Noriko's reply was incredibly sheepish. "Well, actually,   
Gerald's on his way over to pick you up now. Our shuttle leaves   
for Saturn at twenty-one hundred. Twenty your time."  
  
Somehow it just figured. "I'll start packing, then."  
  
"Great! I'll see you when you get here!"  
  
"See you soon." Kazumi deactivated the phone and slumped   
back on the lounging couch. It had been a whole week since   
Noriko's dive. The media blitz had died off two days later.   
Five days of peace... It was more than she was used to. After a   
few more lazy minutes in the sun she convinced herself to stand   
up from the couch and collect her book.  
  
Kazumi's home high above the gleaming city of Hong Kong was   
small compared to the palatial mansion she could have accepted,   
but it was still quite large, especially since she was the only   
person in it. Three maids came twice a week to clean but they   
weren't much for conversation. Most times Kazumi didn't notice;   
she spent more nights sleeping in presidential suites than she   
did in her own bed. She wasn't particularly attached to the   
house, and sometimes considered moving in with Noriko outside   
Kyoto just for the company. Certainly someone else in this, the   
most prosperous city in the solar system, would gladly move in.   
Kazumi walked through the open transparisteel patio door, passed   
through the dining room and living room and made her way up the   
curving steps to the second floor.  
  
She knew she wouldn't miss the bed. The king-sized   
pseudowood monstrosity was far too empty and made her miss   
Koichiro as she lay awake upon it in the middle of the night.   
She didn't think she'd ever find the proper setting on the   
adjustable-firmness control embedded in the headboard either.   
How long ago had simple beds gone out of fashion? Such a waste.  
  
The closet was even worse. A room in itself, it was eight   
meters long and six meters wide and filled with racks of clothing   
she had never worn. (I could clothe half the girls at the   
Academy with what I don't wear,) she thought with a disapproving   
sigh as the overhead light panels activated with the opening of   
the door. This trip would be an excuse to try out some of the   
outfits, at least. After stripping off her swimsuit and dressing   
she selected several casual blouses and skirts, hose, shoes and   
two light jackets, then turned to the formalwear. (Here's the   
fun part,) she told herself. Perhaps... yes. The slit-sided   
spaghetti-strap that matched her hair and eyes and the heels and   
elbow-length gloves to go with it. (Easier than I thought.) She   
added a matching choker and nibbled on her bottom lip for a   
moment, wondering if there was anything she was missing.  
  
At that point the doorbell rang. Kazumi walked to the   
intercom panel -- in the closet of all places, what had they   
thought when they built this place? She would never understand   
that -- and turned on the camera. Gerald stood patiently at the   
front door, hands in the pockets of his white windbreaker. (How   
did he got here so fast?) Kazumi pushed the "talk" button on the   
panel. "Come on in, it's not locked. I'm upstairs."  
  
She was carefully folding out the clothing she had laid on   
the bed when Gerald reached her room. "Typical woman, taking   
forever," he teased her in Hango.  
  
"Noriko only called me twenty minutes ago," Kazumi replied   
with an exaggerated "harumph".  
  
The dark man spluttered for a moment, then grumbled   
something Kazumi couldn't understand. "I told her to call when I   
left her house," he went on in Canamerican. "I swear,   
sometimes..."  
  
"You shouldn't talk that way about one of the saviors of   
humanity," she told him with mock seriousness. Then she said   
with a smile, "She probably wanted to play a joke on me and let   
you show up without me knowing what was happening, but then her   
conscience got the better of her."  
  
"Little imp. I'll give her a joke when we get back."  
  
She couldn't help but snicker. "Let me finish packing and   
we can go."  
  
Gerald told her about his trip on the high-speed Poseidon   
undersea maglev transport as Kazumi contined her work. Spanning   
the nineteen-hundred kilometer distance between Kagoshima on the   
island of Kyushu and Hong Kong, the aptly-nicknamed "Ocean Comet"   
shot through its tunnel across the seabed at speeds nearing one   
thousand kilometers per hour. Though Kazumi had ridden aboard   
Poseidon several times, Gerald had never set foot on it until   
today. Though he did his best to hide it she could tell he was   
highly impressed with "flying underwater", as he called it.  
  
Once she had everything packed Gerald pointedly forced   
Kazumi to let him carry her suitcase and the sealed garment bag   
with her dress down to the waiting car. She programmed the alarm   
system, wondering why she was even bothering as she did so.   
(It's not like I own anything irreplaceable or sentimental.) All   
of her personal effects had returned to Earth twelve thousand   
years ago with the Eltreum. (Getting bitter, Kazumi?) she asked   
herself. (Or just jaded? Either way, this isn't good.)  
  
The chauffeured white aircar's interior was a plush light   
tan fabric over form-sensitive seats. The car boasted a   
fully-stocked minibar and a satellite uplink. Kazumi availed   
herself of the latter to call Noriko as the rounded, oblong   
vehicle began to move away from the house, propelled by twin   
gravitic-motion pods mounted in the rear which functioned much   
like the lifters that kept the car off the ground.  
  
Traffic was surprisingly light once they reached the ninth   
transit level downtown, four hundred meters above the streets.   
Above and below streams of flying vehicles wound their way   
through the kilometer-deep glass and steel urban canyons. Kazumi   
did her best not to look out the window at the dizzying display,   
or to notice the busy men and women in their high-rise offices;   
space combat was one thing, this was something quite different.  
  
The Hong Kong Poseidon Terminal had been built hard against   
the shore of Kowloon Bay. The maglev's transparent track-tunnel   
burst from the water a kilometer offshore and was supported by   
massive struts anchored into the floor of the bay itself. After   
reaching the terminal and disgorging its passengers the train   
tunneled underground in a wide turnaround loop, returning to the   
platform facing the opposite direction on the same track. The   
stationhouse itself was fancifully designed to resemble a   
classical Greek temple, a shining white pseudomarble facade lined   
with columns and decorated with intricately-carved statuary. The   
car descended to ground level and passed through the   
traffic-control gate into a large paved circle dominated by a   
ten-meter-high fountain, a figure of Poseidon, Lord of the Sea,   
standing amidst frolicking merfolk.  
  
The black-liveried driver set the car down just in front of   
the broad pseudomarble steps leading to the main entrance. He   
opened and held the door for Gerald and Kazumi. She stepped out   
into the sunshine and stretched, grateful to be on the ground   
once more.  
  
The spacious -- and currently unoccupied -- floor of the   
terminal's main hall was laid out in grand colorful mosaics   
depicting scenes from ancient Greek mythology and lit from above   
by vast transparisteel skylights. Kazumi, suitcase in hand   
despite Gerald's best efforts, strode across the birth of   
Aphrodite just inside the doors and passed over Pandora opening   
the box, Prometheus giving fire to mankind and Theseus facing   
down the Minotaur on her way to the baggage-check desk. The   
fresh-faced young Canamerican man in a navy and burgundy uniform   
on the other side of the polished white counter greeted Kazumi   
with an almost unnatural enthusiasm. "Good afternoon, Ms. Amano.   
Such an honor to see you!" the clerk gushed. "Welcome to   
Poseidon. Would you like to check your baggage?"  
  
Kazumi glanced at the man's nametag, which cheerfully   
proclaimed "Kevin" in gold-trimmed black letters. "Yes, Kevin, I   
would like to check these," she said as she set her suitcase onto   
the scanner platform to the left of the counter. The machinery   
hidden under the black glasslike surface quickly determined she   
had no contraband or explosive devices and a green light appeared   
on Kevin's touchpanel. The clerk moved the suitcase to a   
conveyor belt behind his work station. It disappeared into the   
wall through a rectangular portal. Gerald placed the garment bag   
on the scanner; it too was cleared and vanished into the wall.   
Gerald had no baggage of his own and said so. Kazumi wondered if   
the clerk would have even noticed her companion if the   
dark-skinned man hadn't spoken up. (Yet another price of   
celebrity,) she told herself.  
  
"Here we are," said Kevin, handing over the two   
twelve-centimeter by eight-centimeter electronic slates that were   
their boarding passes. They each pressed their right thumbs to a   
small square in the lower right corner. The passes recognized   
their unique prints and activated, displaying their names,   
pictures, checked baggage and seat assignments. When they lifted   
their thumbs the passes deactivated. "You're welcome to board at   
any time. Departure is at precisely fifteen-hundred hours." A   
quick glance at the clock on the wall behind Kevin told Kazumi   
that it was already fourteen-forty. "Enjoy your trip aboard   
Poseidon."  
  
Kazumi nodded her thanks and walked away across more   
mosaics depicting the seige of Troy, the voyages of Odysseus and   
the splendour of Olympus itself to reach the doors separating the   
main hall from the boarding platform. Beyond those doors Kazumi   
could see the sleek white metal of Poseidon's hull, boarding   
hatches standing open and ready to receive them. The   
bored-looking, burgundy-and-navy uniformed conductor standing on   
the platform didn't even blink as she held up her activated pass   
for him to verify. He examined her pass and Gerald's, waved them   
on to their proper car with a monotone platitude and resumed his   
idle watch as the pair moved on. Kazumi thought, (Someone who   
doesn't fall all over himself when he sees me. I could kiss   
him!)  
  
They stepped into a lavish foyer where they were greeted by   
a second crewmember, a small blonde woman with a pleasant precise   
Avalon accent. "Welcome aboard Poseidon. Please allow me to   
show you to your seats." The stewardess led them through a   
pseudowood double door and into the car itself, where several   
other passengers were already accomodated. The interior was   
almost nine meters wide and thirty meters long, with two broad   
aisles between the twin rows of double window seats and the   
single row of triple seats in the center. Each aisle appeared to   
be laid out in white and green marble and was edged with gold.   
The seats were upholstered in a lush hunter green fabric that   
looked sinfully soft and felt even better.  
  
After a brief glance at their passes the stewardess brought   
the pair to twin seats next to one of the car's windows. "Here   
you are sir, madam. We will be departing shortly. Once we have   
reached our cruising velocity we will be offering refreshments."   
With a charming smile the woman returned to the foyer.  
  
Several heads turned to make note of the new arrivals, and   
all eyes focused almost imediately on Kazumi. She felt the   
weight of their stares and swallowed involuntarily. (This is   
really starting to get annoying.) "Would you mind if I took the   
window seat, Gerald?" she asked her companion.  
  
"Go right head," he said. He glared a mute challenge at   
the gawking passengers, who all turned away quickly.  
  
Kazumi whispered her thanks and slipped into her chosen   
seat. As she had suspected it would, it molded to the curves of   
her body almost immediately. (I'd almost welcome a nice hard   
bench sometimes,) she mused. Occupied with her growing   
discontent with the pampered life she led in the hundred   
forty-first century, she stared unseeing at the platform outside   
her window.  
  
"Where are you right now?" she imagined her husband asking   
her as he often had when she got that far-away look. "What does   
it look like?" he would wonder. Most times she would tell him   
everything that was on her mind. Once in a while she would   
simply shake her head and let it go, safe in the knowledge that   
Koichiro's presence could fix anything. What would he think of   
this train? He probably would say that as long as she was happy,   
he wouldn't care if it was a leaky dinghy in the middle of the   
ocean. He always had a way of making her the focus of his entire   
universe.  
  
Kazumi wished she at least still had her wedding band,   
something to touch that had been touched by him. She had kept it   
safe in her personal effects, counting on returning to the   
Eltreum after the final battle with the aliens. Now it was lost   
in the vast gulf of time, just like he was. The unpleasant turn   
of her thoughts shook her from her reverie just as Poseidon   
plunged into his domain and bright sunshine gave way to pale   
depths. The car's overhead lights and the illumination lines of   
the tunnel soon cast the interior in sharp contrast to the   
ever-darkening ocean outside.  
  
"You feeling okay?" Gerald asked her. He wore such a look   
of concern that she took her friend's hand and squeezed gently.  
  
"I'm all right," she said with a nod. "Just... thinking   
about the past."  
  
"Forgive me if I seem out of line when I say this, but...   
You do that way too much."  
  
He was right, and she knew it. She was still living in the   
twenty-first century, still trying to scramble back aboard the   
Eltreum with Jung Freud and drag Noriko with her. "I wish I   
could stop." Gerald gave a "hmmm" but didn't actually say   
anything. She could tell by his look that there were a thousand   
things he wanted to tell her, but he would, as always, let her do   
as she wished without any interference. "Please tell me what's   
on your mind."  
  
"Just thinking about how you live, all alone like that.   
Nothing to occupy you. No wonder you think about the past all   
the time, you don't have a chance to live in the present." He   
gave a quick disparaging glance to the other passengers, who even   
now were trying to sneak glances at the famous hero, Amano   
Kazumi. "Everybody's just eating up your life and not leaving   
any for you."  
  
"I've got you and Noriko, that's all I really need."  
  
His lips twisted in a disbelieving smirk. "I'll believe   
that when the sun rises in the west, Kazumi. You need something   
in your life."  
  
"Like what? A relationship?"  
  
Gerald laughed a quiet, self-depricating laugh and shook   
his head negatively. "No. I'm nobody to be going around giving   
out advice about those, not after three divorces. But there's   
gotta be something you can do, something to get you grounded."  
  
"Four years ago I didn't care. But now I think you're   
right. I've been idle too long. I need to be me again, not some   
picture on a page, not some hero." (But what could I do,) she   
wondered, (without having cameras all around me every hour of the   
day?)  
  
"I've got an idea for you," Gerald said, "but I don't want   
to talk about it right now. I'll tell you on the shuttle and   
give you some time to think about it." It wasn't like Gerald to   
keep a secret. Whatever he had in mind must have been important.   
"What do you think about when you live in the past like that?" he   
asked, changing the subject.  
  
"My husband, mostly. Sometimes I think about the Academy,   
or the war. Serving with Noriko. There's a lot that happened   
that we never talk about, sometimes I find myself wishing it   
could have been different. But Noriko and I are like sisters   
now, so I guess in the end it doesn't really matter."  
  
"If you ever want to talk about it, I'm always listening."  
  
"I know." Kazumi gave Gerald's hand another grateful   
squeeze. "No time like the present, I guess. I first met Noriko   
one day at the Academy when she was being harrassed by some   
upperclassmen..."  
  
Gerald listened as Kazumi told him the story, how she had   
encouraged Noriko, given the younger girl a strip of cloth to   
keep her hair out of her face; her shock when it was discovered   
that Noriko was the daughter of the captain of the Luxion, one of   
the first casualties in the war against the aliens, and that   
Noriko was the second student chosen from the Academy to serve   
aboard the cosmoship Exelion; meeting Jung Freud, the legendary   
Russian "girl genius", and their first duel; the disastrous   
encounter with the Luxion, returned from the depths of space.   
All the while Kazumi had harbored growing doubts about Noriko,   
doubts that eventually pushed her to break up her partnership   
with the younger girl and find a new teammate. Now, so many   
years later, Kazumi reviled her own selfishness as she told of   
her continual arguments with the man who would one day become her   
husband, debating Noriko's capability as a fighter and her   
fitness to be one of the pilots chosen for the top-secret   
Gunbuster weapon.  
  
"I was so focused on myself that I couldn't see how much   
pain and doubt Noriko was drowning in," she said. "Then there   
was that very first engagement with the aliens, when her new   
partner was killed. Noriko told me about it later on. One   
second he was there, the next... gone. No scream, nothing.   
Just... gone." Kazumi shook her head ruefully. "And me? I just   
used it as more proof that she wasn't fit. Coach kept on   
ignoring me. And I was never happier to be wrong."  
  
A surprise attack in subspace at the end of their tour gave   
Noriko the chance to prove herself once and for all. Kazumi   
didn't even notice that every passenger in the car with them was   
listening in rapt fascination as she described the desperate   
battle to survive. When all hope had seemed lost, when even the   
"girl genius" was faced with her end, Noriko -- and Gunbuster --   
turned the tide.  
  
"Something inside me changed when I saw it. Somehow I   
learned how selfish I had been. Well, almost."  
  
"Almost?" Gerald blinked, then noticed the stares. He was   
about to tell them all to mind their own business when Kazumi   
stopped him.  
  
"It's okay. Have you all been listening?"  
  
A bespectacled gentleman wearing a charcoal three-piece   
suit in the center seat, one row back, nodded. "I have at the   
very least," he said, his precise diction marking him as another   
citizen of Avalon. "I'm honored. Please, don't let us   
interrupt."  
  
From the other side of the car a businessman from Hong   
Kong, a short, balding man Kazumi recognized as the president of   
a major corporate conglomerate, stood and bowed his respect.   
"Thank you for sharing your story with us, Ms. Amano. Please   
continue."  
  
From all around came murmurs of respect. Kazumi wasn't   
quite sure what to make of the attention, so different from the   
devouring frenzy that normally filled crowds when she appeared.   
"I... Thank you," she said. "This is probably the first time   
strangers have treated me like a person and not an icon since I   
dropped out of the sky four years ago. Well, except for my   
friend Gerald, here." She cleared her throat, then accepted a   
glass of water from the stewardess who had welcomed her aboard.   
"Where was I... Oh. Noriko and Gunbuster."  
  
Now that she was certain the people listening to her tale   
were interested in her as a human being and not a celebrity, she   
moved from her seat next to the window and sat on the outer arm   
of the seat in front of Gerald. She continued on through the   
initial culture shock of returning home after ten years had   
passed on Earth, her shared graduation ceremony with Noriko and   
encountering Noriko's old friend Kimiko immediately after. "I'm   
glad I didn't know Kimiko except as Noriko's friend. I really   
didn't have any idea what to say at that point," she admitted.  
  
Kazumi went on to tell of the heartbroken flight away from   
Earth to bid farewell to the Exelion. "This is where that   
'almost' I mentioned before comes in. If Noriko hadn't been   
persuasive enough to bring me out of my grief at the thought of   
never seeing Coach again, the mission would have failed and we   
wouldn't be sitting here right now. It wasn't until she made me   
see what we were fighting for that the changes that began when I   
first saw Gunbuster were complete." She took a sip of her water   
and looked around. They were all watching her still, hanging on   
her every word.  
  
At that moment the stewardess informed them that Poseidon   
was nearing its deceleration point for approach to Kagoshima.   
Kazumi handed over the empty glass and looked around. "Guess I   
talked more than I thought. Didn't even get to the years Noriko   
was out in space and I was at home with my husband on Earth."  
  
"You've given us more than you'll ever know, Ms. Amano,"   
said the man with the glasses. "Then, and now." His words were   
echoed throughout the car. Kazumi found herself fighting back   
tears as she sat next to Gerald once more.  
  
"I can't believe I just told my life story to a bunch of   
complete strangers like I was holding court or something," she   
whispered as she reclaimed her composure. "And they listened to   
the entire thing!"  
  
Gerald looked at her with a beaming smile. "You needed   
that. You needed for someone to hear you and still treat you   
like a person. So you did a little grandstanding, so what?"  
  
"Just don't expect me to do that again," Kazumi replied.   
She felt... a million times better. Like the weight of the   
entire world had just dropped from her shoulders and she was free   
again. All thanks to a car full of strangers. Maybe this   
century wasn't so bad after all.  
  
The impenetrable murk of the ocean began to lighten as   
Poseidon's track rose toward the surface. When the maglev broke   
free of the waves Kazumi could see the late afternoon sunlight   
playing across the towers of Kagoshima. From here they would   
catch a shuttle to Kyoto, where Noriko was waiting.  
  
The Kagoshima Poseidon terminal was a twin sister to the   
one in Hong Kong, its columns, mosaics and skylights in exactly   
the same order and position. Kazumi smiled wryly. (Something to   
be said for sticking with a good design, I suppose.) The baggage   
claim yeilded her suitcase and garment bag with a minimum of   
fuss, and they were on their way to the railway station.  
  
The train, a high-speed monorail much like the ones Kazumi   
had been familiar with in the twenty-first century, shot them out   
of Kagoshima and across the Japanese countryside at seven hundred   
kilometers per hour. The train rocketed across the island of   
Kyushu, crossed a rail bridge between Kyushu and Honshu and   
dashed over the main island toward its destination. All the   
while Kazumi was silent, pondering the implications of her   
experience aboard Poseidon. A little piece of her faith in the   
human race had been restored by her fellow passengers, just at   
the moment she needed it the most. Bolstered by her newfound   
happiness she spent most of the trip to Kyoto humming snippets of   
her favorite songs and gazing at the mountains and fields in the   
evening light.  
  
Noriko was waiting for them when they stepped off the   
train. Kazumi could feel the younger woman's excitement as a   
tangible sensation and found that it was infectious. The   
brunette led them to yet another car, this one taking them to the   
spaceport for their flight. In just over an hour and a half they   
would be on their way.  
  
"So did you like Poseidon?" Noriko asked Gerald.  
  
The man scratched at his salt-and-pepper beard and nodded.   
"Never seen anything like it. Couldn't see anything outside most   
of the time, but the view in the shallows was impressive."  
  
"I thought you'd like it," replied Noriko, certainty strong   
in her voice. "It's probably my favorite way to travel. But I   
can't wait to see the Cloud Angel."  
  
Kazumi agreed. "I think it's something we're never going   
to forget."  
  
Again, celebrity proved its benefits as they breezed   
through the spaceport to their waiting shuttle. The powerful   
craft would launch down a long ramp, much like the spaceplane   
they had taken to reach the Silver Star Station so many years   
ago, but once it reached space it would continue on past Luna,   
where it would reach into one of the miracles of the universe --   
another dimension of existence, beyond even the subspace touched   
by the Tannhauser Gate warp travel of old. This space was simply   
called Otherspace, and they would travel through it to reach   
Saturn faster than any warp engine ever could.  
  
Otherspace, Gerald explained to them, had first been   
reached by humans in the year 3652. It was like the "hyperspace"   
of science fiction, a place where spatial dimensions were altered   
and ships could traverse vast distances in short times without   
suffering the effects of Relativity. Scientists were quick to   
analyze the findings and the first Otherspace ships were built to   
much fanfare. Those ships struck out for the stars, the pride of   
the human race.  
  
Not a single ship returned.  
  
No one knew why the ships had been lost. No message was   
ever received, no cry for help, no warning. New ships were built   
and dispatched, and they too disappeared without a trace. Rumors   
of a new alien threat raced around the planet. Desperate to   
stave off global panic, the world governments released reports   
from scientific inquiries which stated that Otherspace beyond   
Pluto's aphelion was rife with unpredictable and deadly currents.   
Otherspace drives were restricted to use within the solar system   
and traditional warp drives continued to power any ship that   
passed from that cradle.  
  
For eleven millennia people tried to figure out why   
Otherspace was so dangerous. Private citizens and massive   
corporations funded their own expeditions, all of which failed.   
It was still a mystery. Cults had periodically risen claiming   
that Otherspace was the realm of the gods, or of God, and that   
humanity was not meant to tread upon it.  
  
"How do you know so much about this?" Noriko wondered.  
  
Gerald grimmaced sourly. "I read a lot."  
  
The trip to Saturn would take no more than eighty minutes,   
the time it took light from the sun to reach the ringed giant,   
but that hour-plus would be spent in Otherspace where Relativity   
had no meaning. Eighty minutes would pass aboard the shuttle;   
eighty minutes would pass in the normal world. Einstein wasn't   
cheated, he was left out of the conversation entirely. Kazumi   
found herself wondering what the ancient patent clerk would think   
of that.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
The man staring back at Akira from the body-length mirror   
was a handsome devil, if he did say so. He wore a white,   
military style jacket, trim against the hips and wide at the   
shoulders, lined with gold piping about the seams of the yoke and   
along the tops of his shoulders. A high collar in a contrasting   
fabric of dark blue was the framework for a perfectly placed silk   
kerchief that made an elegant ruffle at his throat. Just above   
and toward the torso from each arm were four round medallions of   
gold, the piping running to and around them. Gold buttons were   
aligned in rows along both the white and the blue, which ran down   
the center of his body to where the wide, white belt was fastened   
around the trim waist of his matching piped white trousers.   
Well-polished boots of snowy leather completed the ensemble.  
  
He combed his fingers through the neat blonde spikes atop   
his head, adjusted the jacket one final time with a satisfied   
tug, and pulled on his matching white gloves. Finally, he would   
get to see her again.  
  
Takaya Noriko had been the only thing he could focus his   
thoughts on since the moment he had met her. She hadn't called   
him yet, but he was certain that was just because she was such a   
busy person. His life couldn't have gotten better -- and then   
the call came from Excel, and within a matter of days he had been   
inducted into the lowest level of a world-spanning   
millennia-enduring conspiracy to protect the human race and sent   
on his way to the Cloud Angel. He was afraid somebody was going   
to pinch him and he'd wake up to the horrible realization that   
this was all just a dream.  
  
Akira had been asleep when the Gunbuster pilots' planetary   
shuttle arrived. The vagueries of time and travel played havoc   
with their schedules, one and all; the pilots had arrived some   
time around ten in the morning local time and gone straight to   
their cabins to rest. Akira spent the afternoon flitting about   
in nervous excitement at knowing Noriko was on board, trying to   
burn off energy in one the liner's three gyms, wandering both art   
galleries and completely failing to pay attention to a movie at   
one of the six on-board virtual-reality cinemas. But finally it   
was time for dinner. Finally he could see Noriko again.  
  
Doubt lurked in the corner of his mind. Yes, she was busy,   
but she hadn't called. Would she even be glad to see him? She'd   
be in the company of Amano Kazumi and a host of other   
celebrities. He was just Li Kim Akira, the guy she'd fallen to   
Earth with, nobody special. How could he compete with Lina Van   
Dyne?  
  
"You don't have time to start this crap," he growled at his   
reflection. "Of course she'll be happy to see you. Who   
wouldn't? Young, charming, dashing, dressed to kill. That's   
you, Akira." His courage bolstered, however fragilely, by his   
self-delivered pep-talk he turned to exit his cabin and reached   
the door the moment the buzzer announced a guest. He opened the   
door, prepared to greet Noriko with a jaunty grin, and felt his   
knees nearly buckle when he saw who it really was.  
  
Gerald Hanes stared the young man in the eye. "Mind if I   
come in?" he said in his native language.  
  
"Er, uh..." Completely put off by the   
conservatively-attired dark Canamerican, Akira stammered for   
several seconds before nodding and stepping aside. "I didn't   
know you'd be here," he managed finally.  
  
"I go just about everywhere with those girls," Hanes   
replied. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, white shirt   
and black shoes, and a crimson rose on his chest. "You know   
that."  
  
"Does this mean the dinner is official business?"  
  
"I'm afraid so," said the elder man. "Nothing you have to   
be concerned with. I'll be handling this one."  
  
The younger man wondered aloud, "I wonder why I'm here,   
then." Akira knew that Hanes was one of the higher-ranking   
members of Aegis. He'd had a chance to meet the older man once   
after being inducted into Aegis a few days ago as a probationary   
agent. Akira also knew that Hanes was a close friend of both   
Noriko and Kazumi, but he hadn't been told that Aegis had any   
plans for the pilots. In fact, he realized suddenly, he probably   
wasn't supposed to know it now. "If you don't mind my asking,   
sir... Why are you here? Talking to me? I'm just a peon..."  
  
Hanes smiled briefly, flashing perfectly-aligned pearls of   
teeth. "Because I know I can trust you to look after one or the   
other of them while we're here. Noriko will probably want to see   
the entire ship, and I'm simply not up to that kind of exertion.   
She and I will probably spend some time together later, which   
means I'll also want you to keep an eye on Kazumi while we do   
that."  
  
Akira would have been elated if he hadn't had a paranoid   
thought. "Do you expect there to be trouble?"  
  
"I always expect trouble," the dark man said grudgingly,   
"and I'm pleasantly surprised when it doesn't happen. I'm also   
authorized to let you in on a few things. Congratulations, your   
probationary period is over." He watched with a stern expression   
as the youth grasp for words, then grinned to break the tension.   
"Come on, the girls are waiting, and I'm starved. I'll fill you   
in later."  
  
"Y-yes sir!"  
  
"Dammit, boy, don't call me 'sir', my name is Gerald."  
  
"Yes sir! I mean... Gerald."  
  
The wide tan-carpeted corridors were deserted except for a   
scarlet-uniformed security guard escorting a small group of   
tourists who had evidently gotten lost. One of them was taking   
pictures of everything with a holocamera as he followed the   
put-upon guard, who was doing his best to herd the tourists out   
of the private section that included Akira's cabin. The man's   
coffee-and-creamer skin and mahogany eyes marked him as   
Balliwallan, descended from the mix of aboriginals and ancient   
Europeans that lived in that wild land, and his twanging yet   
lyrical expressions of amazement almost made Gerald laugh; only   
long years of practice allowed him to maintain decorum. Upon   
seeing Gerald and Akira the man lifted the camera and snapped a   
few shots before the Canamerican's sudden thunderhead scowl made   
him think better of it. Gerald followed the retreating tourist   
and guard with his eyes until they vanished around a corner into   
another corridor.  
  
Akira shook his head and asked, "What was that all about?"  
  
"Don't know. And I don't like having my picture taken   
without my permission." Gerald shrugged, then straightened his   
tuxedo jacket and began walking once more, urging the young man   
along ahead of him. "Let's get moving before any more stupid   
tourists wander through."  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Noriko fidgeted with the broad neckline-facing of her dress   
for perhaps the tenth time in five minutes. She wasn't really   
accustomed to formalwear, especially an elegant off-the-shoulder   
bit like the forest-green dress she was wearing now. To keep   
herself from fiddling with the fabric, which continually felt   
like it was going to fall down, she focused on her own reflection   
in the viewport. Dangling curved earrings of gold and emerald   
twinkled in the overhead light and a pendant rested just above   
her breasts. Her rich brown hair was pulled back into a single   
thick braid, into which had been woven a gilt-thread green   
ribbon. Her face was subtly made-up; the faintest hint of rouge   
to bring out the color in her cheeks, coppery eyeshadow to blend   
her dark-lined eyes with the gold she wore, and soft green above   
that to match the dress. Her lips were enhanced with a   
red-copper that melded them with her eyes and her cheeks.  
  
Noriko's gaze was drawn from the transparent metal to the   
vista beyond. Stretching out in stark contrast to the vast   
gem-strewn black of space above were the swirling white and beige   
clouds of mighty Saturn. The mere thought of being suspended so   
close to the largest planet in the solar system sent a shiver up   
her spine.  
  
Once, thousands of years ago, there was an even greater   
world orbiting the sun. Jupiter had fascinated humanity with its   
century-spanning storms -- one the size of the Earth, a bloody   
cycloptic eye called the Great Red Spot. The planet named for   
the king of the Roman gods had ruled supreme, holding court over   
four great moons and a plethora of smaller tumbling boulders.   
The planet itself barely felt the subspace shockwave that ripped   
through the solar system following the collapse of the Exelion's   
warp engine at Raioh. The Gallilean moons had somehow survived,   
as had Earth, Luna and Venus, but the icy rings and smaller moons   
were blown away into space along with Mercury, Mars and Pluto. A   
solar system of nine worlds had been reduced to six. For a time   
Jupiter knew peace... and then humanity had turned it into their   
greatest weapon.  
  
She was sure she would never understand how humankind had   
taken a planet so much larger than Earth and condensed it to fit   
inside the Black Hole Bomb for Operation Calnedias. Buster   
Machine Three, as it was properly known, was the largest single   
construct ever built, a cosmic monstrosity that rendered the   
Eltreum insignificant. Into this shell had been placed the   
shrunken king of worlds, its courtiers shuffled off to bend the   
knee to a new liege. The Gallilean quartet had been moved to   
orbit Saturn instead of cast off into space or settled around the   
Sun itself.  
  
The Raioh blast wave had stripped Saturn of its pride, the   
glorious rings that had enchanted astronomers. Its new moons and   
its status as the closest celestial body outside the orbit of   
Earth, waystation to the outer solar system and the stars, were a   
paltry compensation for that loss. Noriko envisioned the   
horizon-spanning ring-arc, picturing what it might look like   
soaring above her, imagining the broad black swath its shadow   
might cut in the face of the planet below. She, unlike any other   
aboard this vessel except Kazumi, had once seen the rings with   
her own eyes. It felt like a special secret.  
  
"Don't worry," she found herself whispering to the world   
below, "I remember."  
  
From behind and to Noriko's right, a pleasant masculine   
baritone said, "What is it you remember, if I may be so bold as   
to ask?"  
  
On reflex Noriko replied, "The rings. I remember the rings   
of Saturn."  
  
"I've only seen pictures. Such a splended jewel, lost   
forever because of one desperate, life-saving act."  
  
Only then did Noriko realize that the words being spoken to   
her were not Hango, but idiomatic Japanese, a language dead for   
thousands of years. She turned in shock to look at the speaker.   
He was Caucasian, a handsome sky-eyed blonde with his long,   
straight hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. The jacket of   
his black suit hung partially open, the offset breast folding   
back across his chest to reveal a blue-violet undershirt.   
Bluntly Noriko demanded, her surprise at hearing her native   
language spoken to her by someone other than Kazumi dashing all   
tact, "Where did you learn Japanese?"  
  
"I fancy myself a student of history, and a dabbler in   
obscure and ancient cultures," the stranger said. "The moment I   
heard that you and Ms. Amano had returned from deep space I   
became fascinated with the Japanese of the year of your birth,   
and I took up learning the language. I've not had anyone to   
practice with beyond the computer which had the proper database,   
so I humbly beg your forgiveness if my speech is in error in   
anyway."  
  
What wouldn't these people do to catch her attention?   
Surprise mingled with joy at hearing her own tongue and annoyance   
at the antics of Hundred Forty-Third century people. "No," she   
assured the man, "you're doing very well. Quite a shock,   
actually."  
  
"Please forgive me, I didn't mean to upset you." He moved   
up beside her and looked out over the cloudscape. In Hango he   
continued, "I've always thought that there will never be a world   
more beautiful than Earth. No matter what I see, I'm always glad   
to return home."  
  
Now, that was interesting. She'd thought something quite   
like it when she was diving with Akira. Akira... She'd   
completely blown him off. Well, it had been only a week. She'd   
call him when she got back, first thing, if he didn't show up   
here. He really was very nice. "I can understand that.   
Especially after having been away from it for so long, and almost   
never making it home."  
  
"I can only imagine how much more beautiful Earth must be   
to you and Miss Amano. Most people take it for granted, but you   
and she protected it."  
  
What a peculiar man this was. From the faint accent to his   
Hango speech she guessed he was Avalonian, and his face was   
familiar. Quickly she searched her memory, hunting the man's   
name. It refused to come out of hiding, however, so she decided   
to simply ask. "You have me at a disadvantage, sir. You know   
who I am, but I'm afraid I don't recognize you."  
  
The stranger turned to face her, took her right hand gently   
and bowed a kiss over it. "Charles Edward Windsor-Mountbatten,   
at your service, my lady," he intoned. "I am here on my father's   
behalf, and I am absolutely delighted to make your acquaintance,   
Miss Takaya."  
  
Noriko's face caught fire and blazed with wild abandon.   
"Um... Pleased to meet you, Mr. Winds--"  
  
"Please, for the love of God, call me Edward," he   
interrupted her.  
  
"--Edward." The fire in her cheeks refused to abate.   
"Please call me Noriko," she returned. It was the only thing she   
could think of to say.  
  
Edward bowed his acquiescence with a grin. "As you wish,   
Noriko. May I ask how you're enjoying your time aboard Cloud   
Angel?"  
  
Small talk? Well, it would be a welcome relief from the   
fatally-embarrassing flirtation. "We haven't had time to see   
much since we arrived, since we had to take time to sleep."  
  
"I would very much like to accompany you and Ms. Amano to   
one of the galleries later," said Edward. He seemed genuine   
enough, and he was certainly polite to a fault. Kazumi would   
like him for sure. Gerald would probably be gruff and reserved,   
as usual. "Would you do me the honor of introducing me to her?"   
Edward continued.  
  
Noriko turned and glanced about the bustling theater-hall   
in which the dinner was being held. The two-level hall's floor   
was part of the second-topmost deck of the Cloud Angel. A broad   
shielded "skylight" in the dorsal hull above displayed open   
space. A balcony accessed from the top deck ran along three   
sides of the hall, facing a curtained stage. The hall floor was   
arrayed with circular tables for the dinner guests, but could be   
converted quickly into theater seating for such functions as   
operas and concerts. Viewports such as the one she and Edward   
stood next to lined the port and starboard sides of both levels,   
affording the guests a magnificent view of Saturn.  
  
In the hustle and bustle of guests and staff, Noriko could   
not make out either Kazumi or Gerald. Perhaps if she were to   
check their assigned table -- no, wait, there was Kazumi now.   
"Edward, over here," Noriko said. She gently tugged on her   
companion's coatsleeve and pointed at her friend, then waved to   
catch Kazumi's attention.  
  
Edward looked in the indicated direction and froze, his   
eyes widening and his breath catching. The most beautiful woman   
he had ever seen was approaching, drawn by Noriko's wave. She   
was clad in a form-hugging sleeveless dress that perfectly   
matched the dusky blue-gray-violet of her trimmed locks and   
brilliant eyes. The garment was slit to her thighs to allow her   
freedom of movement. Four thin straps rose from the   
figure-revealing bodice to connect to a choker about Kazumi's   
neck. Matching gloves sheathed her arms to just above her   
biceps, and over these she wore silver cuffs connected to rings   
by thin spurs. To complete the ensemble she had a matching shawl   
looped over her arms and behind her back. He couldn't believe   
how lovely she was.  
  
"I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find you," Kazumi said   
to Noriko with a smile. "Who's your friend?"  
  
"Oh, uh, Kazumi, this is Ch--"  
  
Edward took Kazumi's hand in a slow gesture, his eyes   
locked on the woman's face. "Charles Edward Windsor-Mountbatten,   
my lady. At your service." He did not move to kiss the gloved   
hand he held, but the low and slightly breathy tone of his voice   
told Noriko that he meant what he said. Far be it from her to be   
jealous of her friend for drawing the attention of the son of the   
President of Avalon, but she wasn't exactly nothing...  
  
"Noriko? Is that you?"  
  
For the second time that day Noriko turned around in   
surprise, this time to hearing a voice she already knew. There   
stood Akira, resplendent in his coat, shirt and slacks, next to   
Gerald in his staid tuxedo. The young man's face was lit with   
excitement. A quick glance back revealed that Kazumi and Edward   
were doing fine with each other, and probably wouldn't even   
notice if she slipped away. She did just that. "I was hoping   
you'd be here," she told the blonde dive instructor. Without   
thinking she embraced his arm and winked, then looked to Gerald.   
"Is it okay if we talk?"  
  
"Of course," the dark-skinned man replied. "Akira and I   
have already discussed matters, and he's agreed to watch after   
you while I keep an eye on Kazumi -- who already seems to have   
gotten herself into trouble. Do you know who that man is?"  
  
"The President of Avalon's son. He's very nice."  
  
"He's a scoundrel," Gerald grumbled. "I was afraid   
something like this would happen. Excuse me." The older man   
walked toward the Avalonian and his elder niece, leaving Noriko   
alone with Akira.  
  
Noriko frowned. Kazumi could look after herself, and   
besides, Edward really did seem to be a good man. He was smart,   
he was handsome, he was polite... Of course, he wasn't Akira.   
She put the situation out of her mind and grined up at the young   
man. "I'm sorry I didn't call."  
  
"Oh, that's okay," he demurred. "I figured you were busy."  
  
"Yeah..." Could she tell him that she had actually just   
forgotten? No, especially not now that he looked so happy to see   
her. "We're always running into each other at dinners," she   
joked.  
  
Akira chuckled. "I don't think I'll be asking you if you   
want to orbit-dive on Saturn, though."  
  
"No sneaking off to Europa?" she asked with a faux pout.  
  
"Well... if you put it that way..." He blinked several   
times and seemed to be seriously considering the idea.  
  
Noriko squeezed Akira's arm and laughed. "Maybe later. Do   
you know if Lina Van Dyne is gonna say anything to the room   
tonight?"  
  
"She might. But part of the reason for this dinner is to   
let famous people like you just be people and hang out without   
any pressure. So she might not want to."  
  
"Wow." That was actually very nice of Excel. Not the kind   
of thing corporations often did. "So just how do you know   
Gerald, anyway? You didn't seem to know him before."  
  
"We've... met," Akira dodged. "Just never really talked.   
But since he's your uncle and all... Well, adopted uncle,   
anyway..."  
  
He must've really rattled poor Akira, too. "Don't worry,   
he's really sweet under all that. Are you gonna sit with us?"  
  
"I... uh... yeah. That is, if I can?"  
  
"Of course you can. Let's go sit down." Still holding   
Akira's arm, Noriko led him through the throng toward their   
table.  
  
Edward was handling Gerald quite a bit better. He shook   
the Canamerican's hand firmly when Gerald approached and greeted   
him and Kazumi. "A pleasure and an honor to meet the man Ms.   
Amano and Miss Takaya would call their uncle, sir," the Avalonian   
declared in Canamerican when Kazumi made introductions. "Their   
judgement of character is surely impecable."  
  
(I'll just bet,) Gerald rumbled to himself. Aloud he said,   
"I make sure to look after them."  
  
It was obvious that the dark man was suspicious. But   
Edward had played too many games with men and women who were not   
nearly so honest about their emotions -- and truth be told he was   
completely awestruck by the woman standing next to him. It it   
weren't for his political experience he knew he would be a   
gibbering mess. "Surely no better or more competent guardian   
angel exists than family," he said. The Canamerican relaxed   
slightly, but his eyes were still wary. Edward continued, "I   
believe dinner is about to begin. I am here alone, may I sit   
with your party?"  
  
Gerald's initial reaction was, of course, to tell the   
dashing Avalonian that their table was full. But Kazumi was   
watching him, and he could read that look. (She's already made   
up her mind. Damnation.) "Of course, we've got a free seat."  
  
"Your servant, sir." Edward sketched a half bow. He   
straightened and offered his arm to Kazumi. "My lady?"  
  
To prove a point, as well as assuage Gerald's pride, Kazumi   
took Edward's arm, then promptly took Gerald's as well. Thus   
flanked, she said, "I should be careful. I'll be the envy of   
every woman here, and several of the men as well, I don't doubt."  
  
True to form Gerald simply harumphed. Edward fielded the   
play with a self-depricating joke. The trio made their way   
through the crowd to join Noriko and Akira, who were already   
seated.  
  
Two pairs of eyes carefully studied the party that included   
the Gunbuster pilots. One pair hazel, the other mismatched blue   
and green, they took careful notice of every detail. Erde   
Paveltova sipped at her icewater and said in an aside to Martin   
Tanger, "I wonder if he'll be a problem."  
  
"That playboy? I seriously doubt it. Everything I've read   
about Amano makes me think she'll humor him for a while, and when   
he gets to be too annoying, brush him off like lint." Tanger   
reclined in his chair and turned to face his fellow Division   
leader. "You should relax."  
  
"I am relaxed."  
  
"Yeah, sure," he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.   
"You've been tense since the meeting on Aurora. Look at you,   
you're ramrod straight in your chair, and if you squeeze that   
glass any tighter you're going to break it. It's okay. Really.   
Just ease up a little."  
  
Erde dropped her gaze to her right hand. Her fingers were   
pale with the pressure she was unknowingly exerting on the glass   
she held. The water rippled and ice clinked as tiny tremors in   
her straining hand and forearm shook the glass. (Am I really   
this upset? No wonder I haven't been sleeping right.) With a   
concerted effort she set the glass on the table before her and   
eased against the back of her chair. "All right."  
  
"Hanes is the best man we've got, and you can see for   
yourself how taken Takaya is with Li." Martin took a casual   
glance around to see if there were any potential eavesdroppers   
within hearing range before leaning toward Erde and whispering,   
"And with you on top of the Gunbuster recovery situation, we're   
set." He pulled away and winked his green eye. "So let's have a   
little fun tonight. You're supposed to be my proxy date since   
Derek couldn't make it. Don't wanna let him down, do you?"  
  
"No, we can't have that." She had to concede that Martin   
had a good point. Artemis Division was ready to reclaim   
Gunbuster from its slowly-decaying orbit around Earth, and do so   
without alerting any ground or orbit-based agencies or   
individuals. Bringing Gunbuster to Earth was simple enough --   
make it fall like a meteor into a deserted region, where a   
recovery crew would be waiting. Disturbing the mecha's orbit   
without being noticed was the hard part, but they were sure   
they'd found a way.  
  
Martin was also right about Hanes -- Gerald Hanes was Terra   
Division's best field agent, which was why he had been chosen to   
make contact with and stay close to the Gunbuster pilots. The   
secure emotional bonds that had formed between Hanes and the   
women were a blessing. All that remained now was to reveal the   
existence of Aegis to Takaya and Amano, as well as the dire   
threat to humankind that lurked in the darkness of space.  
  
Of course, that sounded a lot easier than it was.  
  
"I almost wish Hanes would let slip," Erde muttered to   
herself. "Would make my job a lot easier."  
  
The milling crowd thinned as the gathered guests took their   
seats. The warm lighting bathing the hall dimmed as a tall   
Ryulungi man in a white tuxedo emerged from behind the stage's   
curtain to be illuminated in a bright spotlight. "Ladies and   
gentlemen, your attention please," he asked, his voice resonating   
from special hidden speakers. "On behalf of Excel Corporation, I   
would like to welcome all of you to the exquisitely beautiful   
Cloud Angel, floating here above the clouds of the planet Saturn.   
Dinner's first course will be served in just a few moments, but   
I'd like to take the time to introduce a few of our esteemed   
guests to you all."  
  
As the emcee called out individual guests, a second   
spotlight illuminated the named person. Most of them stood up to   
greet the crowd, but when it came to his turn, Edward simply   
waved and rolled his eyes at Kazumi. Her name was next. "Amano   
Kazumi!" the emcee called. She rose gracefully and was met with   
a sudden, almost deafening explosion of wild, standing cheers   
that reverberated through the hall. Shocked at the enthusiasm   
from what she had assumed to be a dignified crowd, she remained   
standing.  
  
A broad grin appeared on Edward's lips. He stood and took   
Kazumi's hand, raising it slightly, then bowed to her with a   
great flourish. The cheers redoubled at his antics; they grew   
yet more exuberant when he kissed the hand he held, then moved to   
hold her chair while she sat, mortified. Gerald was livid, but   
his teeth were firmly clenched.  
  
The emcee was doing his best not to laugh. He took a   
minute to compose himself and let the crowd settle, knowing what   
would come next. Just as he suspected, it started all over again   
when he called out, "Takaya Noriko!" Gerald closed his eyes and   
rubbed at his temples as Noriko stood and waved to the gathering,   
clearly eating up the adulation.  
  
Erde felt a faint soreness in her cheeks and lifted a hand   
to rub at the side of her face. Only then did she realize that   
she was smiling more brightly than she ever had before. (And   
here I thought 'smiling 'til your face hurts' was just a saying.)  
  
"Your servers will be with you shortly," the emcee was   
informing the settling crowd, "and after dinner we will have a   
special event to kick off this evening's entertainment. Enjoy   
your meal!" The man disappeared behind the curtain once more,   
and Kazumi was reminded briefly of a movie that was old years   
before she was born. Something about a man behind a curtain...  
  
Dinner began with salad and a light broth soup. Kazumi   
poked experimentally at the bluish spinach-descendent that formed   
the base of the salad, not quite sure what to make of the   
vegetable. Noriko picked up a bite's worth with her fork, shared   
a look with Kazumi, shrugged and put it in her mouth. When the   
younger woman smiled and took another bite, Kazumi summoned up   
her courage and tasted the plant. A delightful surprise awaited   
her; the leaf's delicate flavor complimented the light   
vinaigrette dressing better than she would have expected   
possible. (They've had twelve thousand years to work on it,) she   
thought. (I guess I shouldn't hold on to preconceived notions.   
You'd think that after four years I'd be used to things like   
this...)  
  
Gerald ate mechanically, not really tasting anything. Bad   
enough that Edward was here at all, worse that he had taken a   
liking to Kazumi... but did she have to be interested back? When   
Edward leaned over to whisper something to Kazumi, Gerald   
grumbled darkly. "What was that?" Noriko asked. When the   
dark-skinned man didn't reply, his younger niece looked   
heavenward in mock exasperation.  
  
For a fleeting moment she thought she saw tiny threads of   
light tracing through the starry black, like lasers in the   
distance. Noriko waited for them to come again; nothing   
happened. It must have been a reflection of something in the   
hall. She returned her attention to the table. The servers had   
returned with baskets of crusty dinner rolls and small loaves of   
sourdough. "No," Edward was saying to Kazumi, "I try to spend as   
little time involved in my father's business as possible. But of   
course tonight was something I simply couldn't pass up."  
  
"Why would that be?" Kazumi inquired. (Probably because we   
would be here.)  
  
"Please, allow a gentleman some small aire of mystery, dear   
lady," he evaded. Edward picked up a roll and broke it, a tiny   
smile on his lips.  
  
Nearby, Erde reminded herself to relax once more. She had   
missed half of Martin's ongoing childhood anecdote; her mind was   
fixated on Gunbuster, Artemis Division's woeful lack of knowledge   
and the abominably small chance of successfully awakening Jung   
Freud from cryosleep. That left very little room for paying   
attention to a meandering tale about a dog. She glanced upward   
when the server approached with the bread basket. Out of the   
corner of her eye she thought she saw a flash of some sort, but   
when she focused her gaze on the stars she saw nothing unusual.   
(The stress must be getting to me.)  
  
Martin buttered a roll and took a small bite. "Erde," he   
said after he swallowed, "if you don't relax I'm going to have   
you put under house arrest at a health spa."  
  
"When this is all over I'll be glad to surrender," she   
remarked. At least the bread was fresh and hot.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Far beyond the Cloud Angel, space was briefly disturbed by   
three vortices of energy. Strange crystaline objects emerged   
from the whirlpools of light, moving at high speed. The vortices   
dispersed behind them, leaving no trace of their appearance after   
the brief burst.  
  
The body of each object was a roughly spherical cluster of   
points. Three needle-like protrusions aimed forward from each   
cluster, into the path of flight, and slightly outward. From   
behind emerged three larger points like a trio of wings. The   
objects moved without an apparent source of propulsion, leaving   
no ionic or gravitic wake.  
  
On the surface of Europa, sensitive scanners detected the   
opening of three small Otherspace portals. As far as the local   
traffic controllers could tell, nothing had come out. Otherspace   
portals didn't just open by themselves, and no known ship made   
use of portals of that size. No ship had a need to use more than   
one portal at all. Something was amiss. Traffic control   
notified the military, and a two-craft lance of starfighters was   
vectored into the vicinity.  
  
Lieutenant Mark Norris said nothing as his space fighter, a   
stylized avian machine called a Tiger Hawk, streaked toward the   
location of the disturbance. He was proud to be a member of the   
Saturn Local Defence Force -- what native Europan wouldn't be? --   
but there hadn't been anything resembling action for decades.   
Even then it had only been a few ill-equipped pirates, hardly a   
challenge at all. Pilots and Control crew amused themselves and   
each other with tall tales, fake emergencies and "got you last"   
trickery. Guaranteed this was nothing more than a gigantic red   
herring. Otherspace portals didn't open by themselves.  
  
His lancemate was relatively new to the SLDF and certainly   
wasn't a native. Lieutenant J.G. Marla Thorns had apparently   
swallowed the bait and the hook with it. "What do you think   
could have done it?" she chattered. "Maybe it's some kind of   
decoy to get us out of position."  
  
Norris forced himself to swallow a groan. (Rookies...)   
"Hell if I know," he said crisply. "Probably not a damn thing."  
  
"If it's nothing then why are we investigating?"  
  
(Because the seat jockeys don't have anything better to   
throw at us today,) Norris mentally snarled. Rather than   
actually reply he verified his course with Control. It was going   
to be another one of those days, he just knew it.  
  
The crystalline objects, still unseen by the humans, faced   
a dilemma. If they continued on course and held to the plan   
which they followed, the humans might be able to make visual   
contact. If they broke course to maintain stealth, they risked   
lagging behind. After an eternity of deliberation, a full second   
later, the objects continued on course, betting on speed and   
surprise over human perception.  
  
For a time, all was calm. The sensors of Norris's craft,   
its cosmic eyes and ears, detected nothing unusual. His   
lancemate had finally fallen silent. Nothing. Nothing at all...  
  
At last Norris and Thorns reached their destination. "Loki   
Six to Control," he spoke, identifying himself. "Willow on your   
bogey at point of origin." A jargon long established, "willow"   
had been derived from "will o' the wisp" -- a phantasm, a mirage.   
Whatever Control had sent them to find, it wasn't here now.   
"Assuming projected vector for phase two of operation." If   
something had come out of the Otherspace vortices, it would be   
aimed in a certain direction. Control had made an educated guess   
and set its birds on a trail.  
  
Right toward Saturn.  
  
"Does this feel spooky to you?" Thorns asked quietly as   
they turned toward the planet.  
  
Actually, it was beginning to feel a bit odd. There were   
no badly-muffled chuckles or veiled jokes coming from Control   
this time. And they'd never used something as farfetched as   
spontaneously generating Otherspace portals to harrass pilots,   
anyway. Norris told her, "I'm not superstitious."  
  
"Me either, but... Something isn't right here."  
  
Norris was a lot more superstitious than he was willing to   
admit. Most pilots were, it was part of the subculture. That   
superstition said that you didn't jinx yourself. Thorns was   
jinxing them both. If you insisted something wasn't right when   
nothing was wrong, something would go wrong just to make you   
happy. "We'll go down in history as the suckers in the most   
elaborate SLDF prank of all time."  
  
Thorns sighed, more to cover her growing unease than   
anything else. "Just what I always wanted."  
  
Concern grew among the alien objects. The humans were   
approaching more rapidly than expected and would soon discover   
them. The plan had to be altered. The humans would be   
eliminated as quickly as possible, before they could alert more   
of their kind. The spined spheres rotated, checked their motion   
with an ease far surpassing the capabilities of the Tannhauser   
mass/inertia compensators of the humans, and began retracing   
their course.  
  
Minutes passed. Thorns grit her teeth and forced herself   
to believe that an immense prank was being pulled on her. "Okay.   
They win. Let's just turn around and get it over with."  
  
She had a point... "Yeah, I think this has gone far   
enough. Cloud Angel's not far from here. If there was anything,   
they'd've seen it and reported in. Loki Six to Control," he   
called in, "Bogey is total willow. Repeat, there's nothing   
between us and the clouds except a big fat whale of a luxury   
liner. You guys win this round. We're coming home."  
  
"Negative," Control flatly denied, "maintain course and   
speed." The young male voice on the other end of the line was   
tense. This wasn't a joke; Control really believed something was   
out here. Something dangerous.  
  
"Aw, hell," Thorns muttered.  
  
"Maintaining course and speed," confirmed Norris. Now he   
really was spooked. Out of habit, he took up visual scaning,   
letting his eyes drift across the surface of Saturn, the black of   
deep space. Better safe than sorry. Just because the sensors   
didn't pick anything up... Wait. "Control... Possible visual   
acquisition dead ahead. Unrecognizable light refraction, but   
definitely out of place. Thorns, you see that?"  
  
"I see it... Mother of God, it's coming right at us!"  
  
Control panicked. "What the hell is it?"  
  
There was no time to reply. The gap between them and the   
unidentified objects was closing far too rapidly. "Break!"   
Norris shouted, pulling his avian-formed craft away in a tight   
banking maneuver, turning hard through the ether field of space.   
Thorns shot off in the other direction and continued turning, to   
come in behind the unknowns.  
  
"Loki Nine to Control," said Thorns, "I've got three bogeys   
outbound from Saturn. I don't know what they are, some kind of   
flying balls of crystal spikes. They aren't showing up on the   
sensors, dammit!"  
  
Whatever the aliens were, they were moving a lot faster   
than before. Norris formed up alongside Thorns. Gut instinct,   
backed up by history twelve thousand years old, told him these   
things were hostile. "Control, Six. Requesting permission to   
fire." Silence stretched over the communication system.   
"Control, this is Loki Six requesting permission to fire upon the   
alien intruders." Still nothing. The crystaline objects split   
in three directions. "Thorns, stick with me. Starboard!"  
  
One alien led the humans off. The other two reversed their   
courses once more, falling in behind. "How can they move like   
that?" demanded Thorns, her voice rising with growing fear.  
  
"I don't know, and I don't wanna find out!" The visual   
aiming recticle, a circle inside the broken outline of a square,   
locked onto the fleeing alien and Norris pressed the trigger for   
his craft's weapons. Twin bolts of brilliant red-violet fire   
streaked from the stylized eyes of the Tiger Hawk. The target   
shifted aside, letting the beams sear past harmlessly. "This   
isn't good..."  
  
Behind the humans, shimmering tracery of blue limned the   
forward spines of the two pursuing aliens. Thorns glanced back   
and her breath caught. "Incoming!" she gasped. A scant fraction   
of a second after she and her lancemate veered away, a barrage of   
blue darts filled space where they had been.  
  
"Control, we are engaged! Bogeys are too maneuverable, we   
can't handle them alone! Control, do you read me?" Norris   
shouted. Why weren't they answering? "Control!" No reply.   
"Thorns, we are in deep shit."  
  
"Don't you think I know that already?" the woman retorted,   
a keen edge on her words. "Let's try a sucker punch."  
  
In theory, it was simple. Get an enemy to follow one lance   
member in a tight turn, while her partner swung in on the same   
arc, blasting the bogey off her tail. In practice it had never   
been used against an enemy with such fine control over its   
movements. Norris whispered a prayer, then flew right at the   
aliens, who had regrouped and were coming in for another pass.   
Thorns's ears were filled with his fearful battle cry. Space   
ignited with blue and red-violet fire. The Tiger Hawk shot   
through the center of the triangle of crystaline enemies,   
unharmed.  
  
"They're turning to follow you! Bring 'em around!"   
Setting her jaw against the G-force of her turn, which her   
Tannhauser compensator couldn't dampen completely, Thorns   
mirrored her lancemate's motion. "Come on... Come on..." she   
hissed, a mantra to focus her skill and hold off fear. Norris   
came closer... The aliens were almost in her sights... Now. The   
eyes of her Tiger Hawk blazed. Red-violet lanced into one of the   
crystal clusters and refracted briefly, lighting up the interior.   
Then the cluster exploded, spraying shards in all directions.   
"Got one!"  
  
"That's great. Now get these two off my ass!" Norris   
reversed his arc as violently as his body could bear. The aliens   
seemed disconcerted by the loss of their fellow; they did not   
follow. "Huh... I think we scared 'em."  
  
This was... unexpected. The alien crystals conferred in   
desperation. The humans had to be destroyed. There was only one   
option left. The decision was made.  
  
"Here they come again," observed Thorns as the aliens spun   
about and began a headlong charge right for her. "Looks like   
they're takin' things personally!"  
  
Norris quickly weighed his choices. "They don't seem too   
bright. Pull 'em around and I'll bring the hammer down." The   
maneuver worked once, and the aliens didn't seem to be expecting   
it a second time. He began a wide turn, setting up the kill.  
  
The crystaline objects loosed repeated salvos of cobalt   
light, forcing Thorns to weave back and forth and disrupting the   
trap. Norris tightened his arc and bore down on the enemy. For   
some unknown reason both aliens suddenly concentrated their fire   
to Thorns's starboard side, forcing her to break to port. Then   
one of the aliens diverted its own course with that spectacular   
maneuverability, cutting across Thorns's turn. "Thorns, look   
out!" There was no spray of light. The alien simply   
accelerated, its course intersecting with the human starfighter's   
--  
  
Twisted metal and crystal shards filled the void, lit by a   
brief ball of orange fire. Then the light was gone, and Thorns   
was gone with it.  
  
(Suicide?) Norris thought absently, his mind hazy with   
shock. (Did its own life mean so little to it?) He stared ahead   
unseeing. (What's happening here? Was I wrong?)  
  
Darts of blue lanced past his cockpit, snapping him back to   
reality. No time to mourn or doubt now. There was still one   
alien foe left. Norris pushed the nose of his Tiger Hawk "down"   
into a wide outside loop, rolled at the "bottom" and pulled "up"   
hard. The crystaline object that had fired on him was...   
missing?  
  
Norris cast about wildly, searching his foe. If it got   
away there was no telling what might happen. He saw nothing but   
stars, the broad, tan face of Saturn, a tiny flash between him   
and the planet. A tiny flash? That had to be it. Pushing his   
throttle forward, Norris raced after his enemy with all the speed   
he could muster from the craft. The sudden acceleration crushed   
him into his seat. (You're not getting away, you bastard,) he   
silently cursed. (I don't know what you are or what you want but   
you're gonna die before you get it.)  
  
Without his sensors Norris had no way of knowing how large   
the gap between him and the alien was. Its incredible control of   
mass, velocity and inertia had allowed it to leave Norris hanging   
alone in space almost instantly. But the aliens had made   
mistakes before. This one had to make another mistake   
eventually, and when it did, Norris would destroy it.  
  
Something big was sitting on his sensor display. Words   
from a few minutes before echoed in his mind: "Nothing between us   
and the clouds except a big fat whale of a luxury liner." It had   
to be Cloud Angel. Saturn was a big planet, but too many things   
had already gone wrong. No use taking another chance. Norris   
set his comm to broadcast on all frequencies. "Cloud Angel, this   
is Lieutenant Mark Norris of the Saturn Local Defense Force. Be   
advised, I am in pursuit of a hostile craft entering your   
vicinity. Cloud Angel, do you copy?"  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Erde chewed slowly on a small, tender bite of prime rib.   
Everything was proceeding smoothly, and she was finally able to   
really relax. The strange flash of light was forgotten. With   
the tension lifted, she was able to concentrate on the flavor of   
the juicy meat. Hints of rosemary, thyme, basil, onion and   
pepper complemented the sherry that had been used as the marinade   
base. Whoever was doing the cooking, he or she had Erde's   
compliments. She hadn't had anything this good in a long time.  
  
Erde glanced over at Martin, who was already halfway   
through the lobster that had also been served. His prime rib was   
untouched. "Don't like red meat?" she asked.  
  
"Never been big on it," Martin admitted, "but this Europan   
lobster is to die for." Lemon and butter allowed the natural   
flavor of the seafood to stay clear and full without being   
overpowering. Not quite as good as his grandfather's, but then   
again, nothing could be. "Go ahead, give it a tr-- The hell's   
going on up there?"  
  
The emcee had reappeared on the stage, his face slipping   
from neutrality into worry before he gathered it back up.   
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I have just been informed by   
the captain that we are making an unscheduled course change.   
Apparently there's a little trouble in the area with bandits. A   
little bit of dinner theater, hey?" The emcee forced a smile and   
welcomed with outstretched arms the few laughs that came from the   
crowd. "The military are already in control of the situation and   
everything will be resolved in just a few minutes. Please   
continue to enjoy your meals. Dessert's just around the corner,   
and I recommend the cheesecake." He grinned once more and left   
the stage.  
  
Erde wasn't buying it. "There hasn't been an uprising or   
pirate attack around here in years."  
  
Gerald looked across from his own table and met her eyes.   
He wasn't believing the story either. The dark Canamerican   
excused himself, rose and crossed over to Erde and Martin. "I   
don't like this."  
  
"Me either," Martin agreed. "I think I'm going to head up   
to the bridge and squeeze the captain for some information." He   
wiped his lips on his linen napkin and stood. "This job has to   
have some perks."  
  
Gerald grunted his agreement. There had to be something   
that made all this worthwhile. Being able to throw your weight   
around to get things done would suffice. "Think I'll come with   
you."  
  
"The more the merrier. Will your young ladies be all   
right?"  
  
Gerald considered his nieces. He didn't like leaving   
Kazumi alone with that Avalonian shark, but she was a grown woman   
and he would have to trust that she could take care of herself.   
Besides, Noriko was there, and Akira wasn't any danger. Hell, he   
even liked the boy. "They'll be fine. Let's go."  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Once more Norris looked at the dwindling distance to the   
luxury liner. Even though the behemoth ship had changed course,   
the alien was still heading directly for it. It had to be the   
target. At least Control had responded. Another lance was on   
its way, racing to intercept the alien before it could reach the   
Cloud Angel. Norris wasn't sure the backup would arrive in time.   
He was closing on the target himself, but not fast enough. This   
was all wrong. "Control, you've gotta tell them to evacuate."  
  
The voice that replied was the Commander of Operations   
herself, Major Elena Trakovski. "Do you have any idea what kind   
of an incident that would cause, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Major, I'm not gonna be able to catch this thing before it   
hits."  
  
Trakovski's reply was ominous. "You'd better, Lieutenant,   
because even if they do evacuate the Cloud Angel, we can't risk   
the loss. That ship is too vital to the local economy and too   
visible to the public. This event is not happening, do you   
understand me?"  
  
Covering it up? An attack by hostile aliens, the first   
encounter with extrasolar life since the Great War? What the   
hell was going on? Why was it worth keeping the civilians on   
board the Cloud Angel completely in the dark? "There are too   
many lives at risk, Major, you've got to order them to evacuate!"  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
"Captain, to ensure the saftey of the passengers, you must   
evacuate this ship." Martin fixed his odd-colored eyes on the   
captain of the Cloud Angel, boring his gaze into the nervous   
man's face.  
  
"I can't do that without confirmation from the SLDF, no   
matter who you are," the captain replied. He doffed his   
broad-brimmed white cap and mopped his brow with his sleeve.   
"For all I know this could be some massive Excel publicity   
stunt."  
  
Gerald wanted to grab the man and shake him until his fool   
head fell off. His hands were clenched into tight fists that he   
wanted to use to pummel the captain into a pulp. It took a lot   
to make Gerald Hanes angry, and this man was doing a good job of   
it. Martin stared at the captain for another second or two, then   
turned and marched over to the communications station. "Hey,   
what the--" the comm officer began. Martin shoved him aside and   
keyed in a frequency from memory.  
  
"Europa Control, this is Cloud Angel. I am invoking   
General Order Nine Zero Four. Confirmation code is Delta Delta   
Seven Six Nine Two One." A pause. "Let me talk to whoever's in   
charge over there."  
  
"Who the hell are you and where did you get that code?"   
came the indignant reply.  
  
"My name isn't important, but you'd damn well better accept   
the code."  
  
Gerald frowned at Martin's back. What was General Order   
904? Just how deep did Aegis's influence run? After a lengthy   
silence, the voice came back with, "All right. Looks like we   
don't have any choice. What do you want?"  
  
"I want to know exactly what the hell is going on. This   
ship has been diverted from its usual course by a report of   
'bandit activity'. There isn't a single patrol vessel nearby to   
protect the civilians aboard. And the captain refuses to do the   
smart thing, which is evacuate the passengers from this giant   
flying bullseye, without word from you. So let's have it. And   
don't lie to me!" Martin scowled back at the Cloud Angel's   
captain. He couldn't believe the idiocy...  
  
"System Traffic picked up the appearance of three   
Otherspace gates, but nothing seemed to have come out of them.   
So we sent a patrol lance to investigate. That lance engaged   
three unknowns. Two of the bogeys were destroyed, but we lost   
one of our fighters. The remaining bogey is headed straight for   
you, with the other fighter on its tail. The pilot doesn't think   
he can make it." Another pause, then, "Do it. Evacuate. And   
may God have mercy on us all."  
  
"You heard the lady, Captain," Martin said. "Get everybody   
out of here."  
  
The captain swallowed nervously, began to speak, cleared   
his throat and started again. "Begin general evacuation. Comm,   
put me on all speakers." The communications officer recovered   
his station and did as ordered. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is   
your captain speaking."  
Kazumi and Noriko wondered aloud at the same moment where   
Gerald had gone and what was taking him so long to return. "Who   
was that man he left with?" Noriko asked.  
  
Edward shook his head mutely. He'd never seen the man, nor   
his female companion, before. Apparently Kazumi's uncle knew the   
pair, however. This event was getting more and more curious all   
the time.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking." The   
voice came from the same speakers the emcee had used. "I have   
just received word from the SLDF that we are to evacuate. Please   
proceed in an orderly fashion to your shuttles. Flight plans are   
already being given to your pilots. Remain calm, the situation   
is under control. This is a precautionary measure only. That is   
all."  
  
"Evacuate?" Noriko fought a rising wave of panic. "What   
about Gerald?"  
  
Akira took her hand in a gentle grip. "He'll probably be   
waiting for us. Come on, let's go." Already the area was abuzz   
of motion as black and white-uniformed Security stepped among the   
crowd to direct them out of the hall and prevent a confused   
stampede. Akira, Noriko, Kazumi and Edward stood and clustered   
together. The woman who had been sitting with the man Gerald had   
accompanied out of the hall joined them. (So far, so good,)   
Akira observed. (Nobody's freaking out.) The party was ushered   
to the doors and down the corridor. It was almost like security   
personnel had crawled out of the walls. (There sure weren't this   
many of them earlier.)  
  
They were moved between decks by the grand staircases,   
winding their way toward the hangar. The air was full of   
confused questions, muttered reassurances and communication among   
Security. What was happening? Just a precaution, ma'am, please   
move along. Section seventy-six clear.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
(Come on, dammit, come on!) The liner loomed on Norris's   
sensor display. Saturn filled the forward field of view. The   
alien still wasn't in range, and the backup lance wouldn't arrive   
for another four minutes. The alien would reach the Cloud Angel   
in just under two. Briefly he considered taking wild shots, but   
there wasn't a chance it would do any good. He needed more   
speed...  
  
There was one way to get it, but it was incredibly   
dangerous. Before becoming a pilot, he'd been entered into the   
Engineering program at the Academy. He'd learned a thing or six   
about the guts of a Tiger Hawk. By routing power from other   
systems into the engines he could get a temporary boost that   
might be enough to get him in range of the alien. He didn't have   
any other options, really. So he began the process of shutting   
down life support, sensors and communications and shunting the   
extra power into the engines. Ninety seconds left.  
  
Seventy-five seconds. Life support was disabled. Norris   
sealed his helmet, activiating the emergency air supply. Sensors   
and communications were offline. Except for his own two eyes, he   
was effectively blind and deaf to the universe. The Tiger Hawk   
surged forward once more. Sixty seconds; the gap was closing   
much more rapidly now. The computer flashed a warning about   
overload, but he ignored it. All that mattered was catching this   
thing.  
  
Thirty more seconds ticked by. It was now or never.   
Norris lined up the glittering alien and triggered his weapons.   
Red-violet beams split open space, barely missing as the alien   
slipped to the side at the last instant. Again and again Norris   
fired. Twenty seconds. The Cloud Angel was visible now against   
the tan clouds, growing larger by the second. He kept firing, a   
silent prayer becoming whispered pleas, and then a mantra: "Die,   
you bastard, die!"  
  
Somewhere in the systems of his Tiger Hawk, something   
overloaded. The cockpit went dark. Everything was suddenly   
dead. Ahead of him the luxury liner continued to grow, and he   
knew he was on a collision course. The alien object expanded,   
almost as if unfolding, then split apart into dozens of shards,   
points aimed at the Cloud Angel.  
  
Norris had time for one final prayer.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Reality rocked to one side, then tilted and heaved,  
throwing Noriko against the wall of the corridor. The breath was   
knocked from her lungs and her vision filled with exploding   
stars. She crumpled to the deck, gasping. It took a few   
seconds, but she was able to gulp enough air into her lungs to at   
least get to her knees. Alarms sang a frightening cacophony.  
  
Akira was getting to his feet. Edward and Erde were   
helping Kazumi up; the Avalonian was holding his free arm close   
to his body. "What happened?" someone shouted. Akira lifted   
Noriko gently; she came up to a half-standing position, leaning   
on him.  
  
"You okay?" he asked. She nodded, not quite having her   
wind back yet. "Something musta hit the ship. We gotta get out   
of here."  
  
Noriko kicked off her shoes. They were only slowing her   
down. She and tried to reach down and and pick them up, but pain   
flared in her chest and she froze, a whimper escaping from her.   
Akira frowned in concern and snatched up the shoes. "Let's go,"   
Noriko wheezed.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Was God, in truth, cruel? Did the Almighty have a perverse   
sense of humor? Everything had gone so well. But now that   
things had gone wrong, they had gone wrong in the worst possible   
way. Hadn't there been a philosopher who had spoken about just   
that sort of thing? It didn't matter. God's justice would be   
served, one way or another, and this setback could be overcome.  
  
Twelve thousand years ago, God's hand had swept through the   
solar system, a wave propagating through subspace that still   
exerted force in the real world, destruction moving faster than   
light. Humanity, in its arrogance, had flouted God's will,   
protecting Earth, Venus, Luna and the largest moons of the outer   
planets from His wrath. Mercury, Mars and Pluto were brushed   
away into the cosmic dark... but Earth remained. Now, twelve   
millennia later, His justice was coming, and this time it could   
not be stopped. Already Neptune and Uranus felt it, trembling   
every so slightly in their orbits. Soon they would quake with   
terror and flee into the everlasting night.  
  
This must be a test. That was the only possible   
explanation for the catastrophic failure that was happening here.   
God was testing the devotion and resourcefulness of His agents...   
Yes, that must be it. (Well, this particular agent will prove   
his worth,) the spectacled man thought. He drew in a deep breath   
and turned to look at the Balliwallan standing next to him. "It   
would appear that we are on our own, Topper."  
  
Topper snickered. The people rushing past him were such   
idiots. They had no clue what was going on. "Looks like it."  
  
"You're certain it was Hanes you saw?"  
  
"Matched 'is picture with the database. It's him,   
awright."  
  
The man with the glasses allowed himself a tiny smile.   
Hanes was with the Pilots, and one of the Pilots had lured in   
Windsor-Mountbatten. "Good. God is watching. We are the agents   
of His will now, in this place. Are you ready?"  
  
Was he ready? Of course Topper was ready. He'd been   
waiting for a chance this all his life. "You got it." Another   
snicker of derision for the fools, and he was headed up the   
corridor to cause some havoc.  
  
The spectacled man closed his eyes and bowed his head.   
(You truly do not know how much you have given us, Amano Kazumi.   
And now that you have served your purpose in furthering God's   
justice, you and Takaya will die as you should have done   
millennia ago.)   
  
------------------------------------------  
  
With Noriko still leaning heavily on Akira, they descended   
two more levels. The shuttle which had brought the Gunbuster   
pilots from Earth was docked on this level, and it would be more   
than enough for them all. Erde grimaced inwardly at the thought   
of losing the small personal shuttle she and Martin had used;   
though she wouldn't be held accountable, the Otherspace-capable   
craft had still cost a small fortune, and if Cloud Angel was lost   
the shuttle would be gone forever. She didn't like wasting   
resources.  
  
So absorbed was Erde in the possible loss of her shuttle   
that she barely noticed the man in front of her suddenly fall to   
the floor, limbs twitching violently. She stared at him   
dispassionately for a few seconds. "Sir?" She was thrown   
violently aside by Martin, who crashed to the deck atop her and   
fumbled for the small hidden weapon he was carrying on his back   
under his jacket. "What the hell?"  
  
Small balls of crackling lightning sizzled through the air,   
impacting with more fleeing passengers. Akira jumped into the   
feeble protection of a doorway as one of the bolts flew at his   
abdomen. After a moment he realized his left had was completely   
numb, and was twitching. Had he been hit?  
  
Charges of crimson light flew back up the corridor in   
answer to the ambush. Gerald had produced a hold-out pistol of   
his own; together, he and Martin laid down something of a   
covering fire while the passengers fled. At the other end of the   
corridor, their mysterious assailant had overturned a statue and   
was ensconced behind it. "Hell of a time for an armed robbery!"   
Edward commented. (Dammit, if only there was something else I   
could do...!) he thought. He was something of a crack shot   
himself, but here he stood, interposing himself between Kazumi   
and the attacker like a human shield.  
  
"I don't think he's after money!" Martin replied, putting   
three more shots right over the fallen statue's side.  
  
A frizzy-haired head popped up. Gerald hesitated in shock   
-- it was that damn tourist! The Balliwallan leapt to his feet   
and filled the air with lightning, screaming the entire time.   
Gerald ducked back against the wall, though he knew he was wide   
open. Where was Noriko? Was she-- (Oh, shit.)  
  
In the confusion Noriko had snuck up the corridor about a   
third of the way between the attacking Balliwallan and her   
friends, and hidden between two small tables. She sprang out of   
her cover and whipped a vase down the corridor, drawing the   
assailant's attention. It was all Gerald and Martin needed. Red   
bursts slammed into the man, searing his flesh and knocking him   
over. His weapon clattered to the deck in the sudden silence.  
  
"Noriko!" Kazumi cried. She shoved her way around the   
astonished Edward and ran up to her friend, sweeping the younger   
woman into a fierce hug.  
  
Gerald opened his mouth to chastize Noriko for being so   
foolishly brave, but he came up short when he saw Erde checking   
one of the fallen for a pulse and shaking her head grimly.   
"They're all dead. But none of them have any visible wounds   
What was that man using?"  
  
"I can't feel my hand," Akira said simply. He glanced   
around at the people he didn't know lying on the deck --   
(Sleeping, that's all. Just... sleeping.) -- then looked at   
Gerald. "I think I caught one of those lightning balls." His   
left hand twitched just then.  
  
Numb hand, twitching, quick deaths without any signs of   
wounding... "Neural disruptor. Sweet God, who would do such a   
thing?" Edward breathed.  
  
Gerald didn't want to believe it. Neural disruptors had   
been illegal for centuries. One well-placed shot from such a   
weapon could completely disrupt the bioelectric operation of a   
living body, sending it into total and immediate shutdown --   
instant death. Glancing blows that wouldn't be fatal with other   
weapons could result in lingering death or permanent disability.   
(Akira might never be able to use that hand again,) Gerald   
thought, as numb inside as the boy's appendage. "The guy might   
have friends. Let's get out of here."  
  
Edward herded Noriko and Kazumi up the corridor, keeping   
himself between them and the sight of the senseless casualties.   
(Still playing shield, Eddie?) he chided himself. He thought he   
might be sick. Behind them, Erde picked up the neural disruptor   
rifle. It would be important evidence; something very, very   
wrong was happening today.  
  
The hangar was ominously silent. Everyone that had come   
this way was already gone, and the deck crews had escaped when it   
looked like no one else was coming. The Gunbuster pilots'   
planetary shuttle stood to one side, alone in its parking slip.   
"Get on the shuttle," Gerald said. "I'll use the auxiliary   
control station to release it from the slip." He made his way   
toward a free-standing booth that contained basic hangar controls   
for emergencies just like this one.  
  
Noriko turned back to watch Gerald as the others clambered   
up the ramp. He seemed to be having a little difficulty finding   
the proper control. A low thrum touched the air as the shuttle's   
drive came to life. Gerald signaled a thumbs-up from the booth,   
finally, and a resounding thunk told her that the shuttle was   
free to move. She turned again and took a step up the ramp.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a strange flash. She   
looked back and saw the control booth being sprayed with laser   
bolts. The new attacker was hidden behind a cart filled with   
abandoned luggage. (Gerald's pinned down. I have to help him.)  
  
Kazumi wondered aloud what was taking Noriko and her uncle   
so long. Martin made his way down the ramp in time to see Noriko   
dashing across the hangar and Gerald returning fire from the   
cover of the control booth. "Noriko, get down!" he shouted.   
Noriko stumbled to a halt, confused. Tanger scrambled after her.  
  
Kazumi heard Martin's shout and bolted out of her seat.   
She saw Noriko looking back at the running Martin and Gerald   
emerging from the booth. A man stood up from behind a luggage   
cart; he wore an impeccable three-piece suit and his face was   
decorated with thin, wire-rimmed glasses. Horror twisted   
Kazumi's gut as she recognized the Avalonian man from her trip   
aboard Poseidon.  
  
Ignoring the dark-skinned Canamerican, the Avalonian pulled   
a second weapon from his jacket and aimed at Noriko. A peculiar   
smile touched his lips as he squeezed the trigger. Lightning   
flew from the gun, eagerly searing through the air to impact with   
Noriko's back. The younger pilot sprawled on the deck, her body   
convulsing.  
  
Kazumi's eyes and the Avalonian's met. Bliss was all she   
could see in that gaze, a perverse and terrible joy. Then the   
contact was broken; the man fell, torn and burned by Gerald's   
gun.  
  
Martin knelt down next to Noriko and gathered her body into   
his arms. He lifted her and sprinted back toward the shuttle,   
Gerald hard on his heels. "Move!" he bellowed. Dazed, Kazumi   
obeyed on instinct alone.  
  
Once aboard the shuttle Gerald shoved his way into the   
cockpit and stabbed at the controls. His fingers trembled with a   
rage that was unsatisfied by killing the man who had shot his   
niece. "What happened?" Erde asked. When he refused to answer   
she glanced back into the main cabin. The ashen look on Akira's   
face and Kazumi's silent tears told her all she needed to know.  
  
The shuttle pulled out of the docking slip and blasted   
through the hangar's containment field into open space. Gerald   
gritted his teeth, his heavy breathing almost a continuous growl,   
and plotted a course for Europa. "Everyone buckle up!" he   
snarled. This was going to be dangerous.  
  
Making an Otherspace jump was an undertaking which required   
precise calculations. The job was complicated by several orders   
of magnitude if the points of entry and exit from Otherspace were   
astronomically close in real space. A computer could take up to   
a minute or more calculating a jump from Earth to Venus. A jump   
from Earth to Luna had never been attempted. So when Erde   
watched Gerald input data for a jump from their present location   
to Europa without the aid of the computer, she began to panic.   
The calm, rational part of her mind told her that saying anything   
would make a bad situation worse. The fatalistic part of her   
mind told her that she was probably about to die.  
  
A vortex of swirling energy exploded into existence in   
front of the shuttle. The sleek craft drove its way into the   
very heart of the storm, and space became filled with the   
distorted rainbows of Otherspace. Almost immediately it reverted   
as the shuttle dropped back into real space. Ahead of them   
gleamed the web-spun tan and white ice surface of Europa. Just   
beyond the terminator of day, the night side was crossed with   
webs of light.  
  
Erde knew Gerald was in no condition to talk. She leaned   
over and used the communications panel to open a link with the   
SLDF base. "Europa, this is Excel shuttle evacuating from Cloud   
Angel. We have an emergency. I am invoking General Order Nine   
Zero Four for the second time. Second confirmation code is Alpha   
Gamma Nine Three One One Four. We need landing clearance and   
immediate medical assistance from your trauma unit. Over."  
  
A short silence, then, "Excel shuttle, this is Europa   
Control. We'll guide you in. What the hell is going on up   
there?" Gerald recognized the feminine voice as Trakovski, the   
woman who had spoken with Tanger. She sounded like she was   
already at her wits' end.  
  
"We don't know," Gerald said, surprising Erde. His voice   
was firm, betraying none of the towering fury that was burning   
him alive from the inside. "We were attacked by terrorists using   
illegal neural disruptors while we were evacuating. One of us   
was hit."  
  
"Terrorists? Neural disruptors?" There was a long pause.   
"The medical staff's been notified... We'll do all we can."  
  
Martin's voice came from the main cabin. "She's still   
breathing but her pulse is highly irregular. I don't know how   
much longer she can hold on!"  
  
Trakovski heard Tanger's words and cursed. "We're clearing   
everything out of your way. You'll be on the ground in just over   
three minutes. Is the entire universe coming apart at the seams   
today?"  
  
The shuttle plummeted toward the moon at an alarming rate.   
Erde stared as Europa's lined surface grew larger and tiny   
details came into view. The shuttle's orientation shifted   
slowly, the nose pulling up to turn their headlong plunge into   
forward momentum over the ground. The shuttle tore through the   
airless sky over ridges, valleys and plains of ice. Only when   
the lights of the Saturn Local Defense Force's massive compound   
came into view just over a mountainous ridge did the shuttle   
begin to slow. Guided by the base's computers, the craft flew   
unerringly through an atmospheric containment field into an empty   
landing zone and settled on the ground.  
  
As soon as the shuttle's ramp touched down the cabin was   
besieged by medical personnel in white jumpsuits blazoned with a   
crimson cross, followed by an odd floating orb that blinked and   
hummed at them. Edward pulled Kazumi close and turned her away   
as they pierced Noriko's body with strange probes linked to the   
hovering globe. A middle-aged Canamerican man, his shaven head   
splotched with a wine-stain birthmark on his right temple, stared   
resolutely at a large oblong device he held in his hand.   
"Neurological stabilization commencing," he reported to his   
compatriots. "Girl's a mess," he muttered. "How is she still   
alive? By all rights she should be stone cold dead..." He   
probably hadn't meant anyone else to hear him, but Akira heard   
anyway. The young Ryulungi slumped in his seat, overcome by   
fear. "Steady... steady... All right, she's stabilized. Let's   
get her inside." The white-suited paramedics lifted Noriko's   
body onto a waiting antigrav gurney and hurried her out of the   
shuttle.  
  
Martin stood at the top of the ramp. Only one other person   
would understand what this tragedy truly meant. With Noriko   
injured, Gunbuster had only one pilot. It was more imperative   
than ever that Jung Freud be brought out of cryostasis. If that   
failed, humanity was doomed. There just wasn't any more time.   
It was too close...  
  
Kazumi's question tore from her clenching throat. "What   
the Hell is going on here?" She broke free from Edward's arms   
and seized Gerald by his upper arms. "Who are these people? Why   
were we attacked?"  
  
"Kazumi, you must listen to me," Erde said calmly as she   
came up behind her and placed her own hands on Kazumi's   
shoulders. "The fate of the human race is in our hands. We'll   
tell you what's going on but you must swear to me that you won't   
tell another living soul."  
  
"All right, dammit, just tell me!" Kazumi spat. She still   
held Gerald's arms in a death-grip.  
  
"The organization we work for, called Aegis, has been   
guiding humanity from behind a thick curtain of secrecy for   
twelve thousand years. We have worked against the day when our   
worst fears would come to life. That day has come. When the   
Gunbuster machine returned from the core of the galaxy we knew we   
had little time left. Our enemies would move quickly. We didn't   
expect them to move this fast, but that's not important now.   
What's important is that Gunbuster must live again to defend us   
against a threat even more deadly than the one you destroyed."   
Erde moved around Kazumi to look into the other woman's eyes.   
"Kazumi, humanity is at war with another alien species. Those   
aliens have control of a weapon that only Gunbuster can stop."  
  
Kazumi stared blankly at Erde, unable to absorb what she   
had heard. A secret conspiracy spanning the ages? Another alien   
threat? A Doomsday weapon? "What is it?"  
  
"Nemesis," Martin said, his voice hollow. "The   
long-rumored brown dwarf companion to the sun. A star that   
almost succeeded in coming to life. Hidden by these aliens for   
most of human history. The invisible foe of all life on Earth, a   
dark spectre of death. And now they will send it careening   
through the solar system to finish what the Raioh blast wave   
began."  
  
Kazumi's hands fell limply from Gerald's arms. The dark   
man caught her as she slumped, her body refusing to hold upright.   
"How... can we stop it?"  
  
"With the last remaining Amulet," Erde told her.   
"Gunbuster must take the Amulet to Nemesis and use it to deflect   
the dark star's course."  
  
"We c-can't," Kazumi stuttered, her lips trembling. "I   
can't."  
  
"You must," Gerald murmured. He stroked Kazumi's hair   
gently with one hand.  
  
"B-but Noriko..."  
  
"Gunbuster can be piloted by only one person," Erde said.   
"The records of Noriko's battle in subspace prove this. It's   
dangerous, but it can be done. And we have one other option,   
Kazumi. There is hope."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"There is one more Pilot. Jung Freud is alive."  
  
Hope. One scarlet ray of burning hope flared in Kazumi's   
heart. "Where is she? Why haven't we seen her?"  
  
"She is sleeping, Kazumi. Cryostasis." Erde tried to   
smile through her own fear and her sympathetic pain for the   
Pilot. "At our signal, Aegis will attempt to wake her from her   
millennia-long slumber. I won't lie to you; it's very difficult,   
and we don't know if we can do it after so long. But we won't   
give up."  
  
That burning hope melted the ice inside Kazumi and her   
tears burst free, carrying all the pain and uncertainty with   
them. She collapsed fully against Gerald, sobbing. He held her   
tightly, his own face lined with worry. Edward looked on   
helplessly, unable to think of a single thing to say. Martin   
moved toward the cockpit; the time had come to order the   
awakening.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Deep beneath the earth, in a frozen artificial chamber, a   
goddess slept. Her hair was red, the color of passion and fire.   
Her green eyes had been closed for thousands of years as she lay,   
waiting, within a reclining cylinder of metal. Her name was Jung   
Freud, and twelve thousand years ago she had returned to Earth a   
living legend. Now she was a dreaming goddess of ice.  
  
Outside the frozen sanctum, four people, two men and two   
women, gazed upon the ancient device that held Jung. Each of   
them knew the risk inherent in what they were about to attempt.   
Each of them was afraid. But each of them knew that they were   
bound by fate to try.  
  
The team leader took a deep breath, shattering the   
sepulchral stillness of the control room. "All right. Let's get   
to work." He pulled a cord from around his neck. From this cord   
hung an identification card, which he slipped into a slot on the   
panel before him. "Procedural safety locks disengaged. Begin   
stage one."  
  
"Stage one commencing," said one of his aides, from his   
left. "Biological maintenance functions halted." Ancient   
machinery groaned to life, a dragon reluctant to rise. That   
dragon would have to be convinced this time.  
  
From his right another aide reported, "Neurological pattern   
is stable. Temperature rising. Thirty seconds to phase two."  
  
"Phase two in t-minus twenty-five seconds," the third aide   
concurred shortly thereafter.  
  
Inside the temperature of the cylinder was rising. When it   
had reached a certain level the machinery would, if all went   
well, begin coaxing the Pilot's body back from the near-death   
state it had held for so long. Each previous try had failed at   
that moment. But there would be no more tries after this. This   
time they had to succeed. They could tinker with the machinery   
no more.  
  
"Phase two in three... Two... One... Phase two   
commencing." The team leader held his breath on instinct. His   
pulse pounded in his ears. "Initiation complete. It's working,   
sir!" the aide shouted in her excitement.  
  
"God has finally smiled on us," the team leader sighed.  
  
"Ten seconds to phase three!" Now the machinery would   
stabilize the Pilot against shock, holding her steady while her   
body readjusted to what amounted to a normal sleep before letting   
her wake naturally. "Two... One... Pilot's life signs are   
nominal, phase three beginning. We've done it!"  
  
"Raise the temperature in the chamber, normalize the   
humidity and break the portal seal," the team leader said through   
the cheers of his aides. "Let's get ready to welcome the legend   
back to the land of the living."  
  
Suddenly one of the aides yelped. "Sir, her vitals are   
going crazy! She's waking up on her own, through the   
stabilization!"  
  
"Shut the damned thing off and get the cylinder open!   
Now!" The team leader strode toward the door that would let him   
into the cylinder chamber. It groaned aside partway, then stuck.   
Growling, he shoved at it with all his might, and it reluctantly   
moved enough to let him slip past. The air inside was parched,   
dehumidified to prevent ice crystals from forming, and the   
normaliziation cycle had not been completed. He reached the   
stasis cylinder. A line of light traced along the long axis of   
the cylinder and the metal split open like a clam's shell.   
Before he could react a slender, pale, bare arm emerged and   
clamped on his throat and yanked him forward.  
  
Naked as the day she was born, Jung Freud glared into the   
team leader's eyes and said something he couldn't understand.   
(Russian,) his wildly-tumbling mind realized. (She's speaking   
ancient Russian!) She repeated her first sentence and added   
something imperative. Then her eyes rolled back until they   
showed white and she slumped back into the cylinder, her grip   
slackening. "No!" he shouted, pressing his fingers to her wrist.  
  
Her pulse was strong and steady. Her well-formed chest   
rose and fell regularly. She was alive.  
  
They had done it.  
  
"Sir?" one of the aides said from the door. "Sir?"  
  
The team leader wrenched his eyes away from Jung Freud.   
"Uh... Y-yes? Yes, what is it?"  
  
"The doctors are on their way."  
  
The team leader nodded once. "Good." He risked a glance   
back at the unconscious Pilot, and that was when he noticed a   
small round lump above her breast. "Wait a second, what the hell   
is that?"  
  
"I don't know, sir," said one of the other aides.   
"According to our records it's something she had implanted, to be   
removed when she was awakened."  
  
With a small frown the team leader gently placed Jung   
Freud's arm across her torso and turned away from the cylinder.   
He knew he should be ashamed, but he hadn't realized she was   
so... beautiful. "I'm going to inform Aegis Prime of our   
success," he said, and wiped his forehead on reflex.  
  
Jung Freud was alive. Soon Gunbuster would be reclaimed.   
Knees weak with relief -- and some degree of embarrassment -- the   
team leader went to call his superiors.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
This is yet another repost of this fanfic, after heavy editing.  
This first part had a few mistakes that slipped past my editor  
more than once, which have finally been caught.  
  
This story's progress has been influenced by multiple fantastic  
sources, among them "Babylon 5" and "The Fifth Element" as well  
as the CD "Space Eternal Void" by the progressive rock band  
Eniac Requiem. The bizarre world of the late Hundred Forty-  
Third Century has been helpfully shaped by these wonderful  
works.  
  
Special thanks on this one go to three people:  
  
* Dianna Silver, as always my Number One Prereader and my costume  
and dinner consultant;  
  
* Riffraff, Plasma, and Vulpes for encouraging me to go ahead  
and write this story despite my numerous doubts;  
  
* and Kevin Callahan, who watched Gunbuster just for me.  
  
Legal babble: Noriko, Kazumi, Jung, Coach, the Gunbuster mecha   
itself and the events depicted in the "Gunbuster" OVAs as   
narrated by Noriko and Kazumi are property of Studio Gainax and   
used without their permission. The state of the world in the   
year 14296, Cloud Angel, Akira, Gerald, Erde, Aegis and all its   
agents, all secondary characters appearing in this fanfiction and   
the Amulet concept are mine, as are many things to come.  
  
Comments and reviews are, as always, encouraged and welcomed with   
open arms at: aesirraven@aol.com  
  
Aim for the top! 


	2. Part Two

GUNBUSTER: AMULET OF THE SUN   
written by Corvus  
  
Part Two: Shadows Fall  
  
Following what the doctor was saying was difficult for Kazumi.   
When her shock and grief had abated, the fuse on an explosive   
rage had finally burned down. Only the physician's timely   
arrival had kept her from physically attacking Edward, whose only   
crime had been to sit silently by her while they waited.  
  
She couldn't begin to comprehend the enormity of what Aegis had   
done. Twelve millennia of manipulation from the shadows,   
holding humanity's destiny in an invisible but unyielding   
grasp... What kind of people could conceive of such monstrosity?   
Worse, who could tolerate it long enough to not only advance the   
scheme, but do so in order to keep human kind isolated within its   
home system, relying only on traditional warp drives to maintain   
an agonizingly slow contact with its few colonies? Kazumi had   
tried to reason with herself -- and found that she could not.   
Reason could not deal with this. She was left with a fury as far   
beyond outrage as the sun was beyond a candle. Of course, if it   
had only been the human race as a generality that was threatened,   
Kazumi might have been able to calm down. But it wasn't just the   
abstract of "Homo sapiens".  
  
Because of these people, her best friend's life, her *little   
sister's* life, was in immediate, soul-tearing jeopardy.  
  
Somewhere underneath the burning hate and anger Kazumi was, she   
supposed, elated to know that Jung Freud was still alive. But   
that didn't help Noriko at all. Kazumi had long ago dealt with   
what she had known, then, to be the irretrievable loss of the   
rival she had come to depend on as a comrade and, eventually, a   
friend as well. That could only be changed for the better, as it   
just had. This was the present -- and she didn't want to lose   
Noriko, even if there might be some impossibly small chance to   
get her back.  
  
But she was powerless... and it was all *their* fault.  
  
Akira had been examined, and it was pronounced that he would   
regain control and sensation in his hand over time. He was   
simply lucky. Noriko, on the other hand...  
  
"I can't explain it," the doctor was saying, though for some   
reason he was smiling. Kazumi shook herself out of her stormy   
brooding when she half-noticed that incongruity. "By modern   
science, it's patently impossible. Somehow, Miss Takaya's   
nervous system not only survived what should have been a fatal   
disruption long enough for us to stabilize it, but it's beginning   
to regenerate. The proof is right in front of us," he said,   
waving a hand at the three-dimensional image of the trunk and   
branches of Noriko's brain and nerves. "I can't make a prognosis   
at this point as to whether her recovery will be full or only   
partial. I simply don't have the knowledge. But she will live."  
  
Regeneration? Stupifying shock clamped down on Kazumi's anger   
long enough for her to look at Gerald, then Edward. Both of the   
men were obviously as surprised as she. Erde's face was coldly   
neutral, as always, and Martin was beginning to grin. The shock   
let go, and she hated them all once more.  
  
It wasn't fair to Edward, really, but apparently his father was   
cooperating with Aegis, and that was enough to make him a target   
by association.  
  
"Any idea when she'll be able to come out of her coma?" Gerald   
asked, his voice low and rough from unshed tears.  
  
The doctor shook his head, and the gleam left his dark brown eyes   
as his lips settled in a firm line. "The regeneration is slow.   
If she does make a full recovery, it could take up to a year.   
It'll be some time before she's able to wake, for certain. We   
just can't tell how much yet." He looked back at the hologram.   
"She's stabilized and has one foot on the road back. There   
isn't much more we can do for her right now. All we can do is   
watch... and wait."  
  
"I want to see her," Kazumi said.  
  
"I'm afraid that's impossible," the doctor said, probably about   
to launch into a perfectly reasonable explanation of why it was   
so, but Kazumi cut him off sharply.  
  
"I want to see her, and I will see her." She intended to stop   
there, but her mouth kept moving, words boiling out of her.   
"Your life is in my hands. All of your lives are in my hands.   
If I'm going to save your asses from a mess of your own making,   
you'll do what I tell you. Now take me to see her." She   
advanced a step, one hand beginning to rise.  
  
The doctor, having absolutely no idea what the Pilot was talking   
about, looked to Gerald for an explanation. Edward stepped   
between Kazumi and her target. "This isn't going to help.   
They've probably got Noriko in an isolation tank--"  
  
The sharp crack of Kazumi's backhand across Edward's face   
reminded a small part of her mind, way in the back, of the report   
of a pistol on the firing range. The Avalonian staggered a pace.   
"Bloody Hell," he cursed. "Are you out of your mind, woman?"  
  
"If I had known what you were all doing while Noriko and I were   
trying so hard to get home," Kazumi replied in a vicious hiss, "I   
would have gladly stayed out there. You disgust me!"  
  
"That's enough," Erde said, speaking for the first time since   
they had left the shuttle. Kazumi rounded on the brunette, the   
last of her temper shattering, and aimed an unthinking punch at   
Erde's nose; it was blocked by a well-placed palm. "I   
understand you're angry beyond words, Kazumi," Erde continued,   
her hand and Kazumi's fist remaining where they were, "and I   
understand that you're absolutely right. But we are the heirs to   
a minor evil twelve thousand years old, dedicated to protecting   
humanity from a much greater evil. If you want to hit somebody,   
go back in time and hit the people who started it. We couldn't   
change it even if we wanted to."  
  
Martin looked distinctly uncomfortable as he reached up and   
placed an open hand over Erde and Kazumi's. "Ladies, this isn't   
going to solve anything. Gerald, I think perhaps the good doctor   
deserves an explanation. He's already heard too much, the   
cover's blown... and the entire world is about to know anyway.   
Could you help him?" The dark Canamerican nodded, and the doctor   
followed him from the room after turning off the hologram.   
Martin turned his mismatched eyes back on the two women, still   
looking very ill at ease. "We're not your enemies, Kazumi.   
We're as in over our heads as you are. And I think you, Jung and   
especially Noriko deserve some payback. Think you'd like to meet   
the people in control of this whole mess?"  
  
Erde gasped, her eyes flicking to Martin. Her calm faltered.   
"You can't be serious!"  
  
"I'm deadly serious, Erde. She deserves her shot at Aegis Prime   
and I, for one, can't wait to see the look on that asshole   
Schwartzwald's face when she tears into him. He's had it   
coming." Lifting his other hand to join the first, he pushed   
down with a slow firmness, then separated Erde's hand and   
Kazumi's fist, clasping both gently. "You were right, Kazumi.   
We do owe you our lives. Not once, but twice. Without you none   
of us would ever have been born, and if you do this for us, we'll   
all be able to go on living. I can't begin to imagine being able   
to make up for that, but if you give us a chance, we'll do   
everything we can to try. You have my word on that."  
  
Kazumi looked from face to face. Martin's was open and honest,   
his odd eyes level with hers. Erde's cool calm had returned,   
and she nodded without hesitation when Kazumi's eyes met hers.   
Edward was rubbing a rapidly purpling bruise on his cheek and he   
looked more than a little put out, but he too nodded without a   
pause.  
  
Martin added his own nod. "Good. No regrets, no what-ifs.   
Let's just put this behind us and focus on what we have to do."   
Kazumi's fist relaxed, and he squeezed her hand once before   
letting go. "Edward, I think you should see about getting a cold   
pack for that."  
  
The Avalonian mumbled something and left the room. Had Kazumi   
not been so twisted and turned around she might have laughed.   
She'd have to find the time to apologize when she was finally   
able to calm down. He really hadn't deserved that.  
  
"Didn't know you could do that," Martin remarked to Erde in an   
aside.  
  
"You never asked," the brunette said in a deadpan voice. "Are   
you certain taking her to see Aegis Prime is the best course of   
action?"  
  
"Hell no," said Martin with a snorted laugh. "The best course of   
action got thrown out about twelve thousand years ago. I just   
think she's got the right to confront the people at the top."  
  
Something about the way the two were talking about her like she   
wasn't even in the room sent a cold chill up Kazumi's spine.   
(At least they're not talking about me in the past tense like I'm   
already dead,) she thought. "Who is Aegis Prime?"  
  
"Prime controls the entire organization," Martin began, flopping   
down in a chair. "There are three members. Aegis Alpha, the top   
dog, is a woman by the name of Lily St. Croix. Her right and   
left hands are two men named Jani Schwarzwald and Takashima   
Mindao, respectively Aegis Beta and Aegis Gamma. Beta and Gamma   
approve the next Alpha when it's time for a changeover, and Alpha   
chooses the next Beta and Gamma. It's a screwy system, but it's   
worked this long." He shrugged expressively. "Alpha is always   
chosen from long-time members of Aegis, usually a successful   
independent agent with a spotless record. Beta and Gamma are   
usually in-house as well, but there have been times someone has   
been brought into the fold and put at the head right away. One   
of those times it almost knocked the entire house of cards down,   
but that's ancient history."  
  
Erde picked up the instant Martin trailed off. "St. Croix tapped   
Schwartzwald and Takashima almost the moment she took over as   
Alpha. The previous Beta and Gamma were doing just fine, but   
Alpha has the right to demand a new set of hands. Nobody's ever   
been able to figure out what St. Croix didn't like about the   
previous Beta and Gamma. Whatever else she is, she's human, and   
she probably had schemes she wanted to advance. You might be   
interested to know that Takashima's predecessor was none other   
than Gerald Hanes."  
  
Gerald... Aegis Gamma? Keeping his membership in Aegis secret   
from her had to have been torment enough, but hiding the fact   
that he had once been part of its leadership... She regretted   
every second of the few hours she had despised him so. "How long   
ago was this?"  
  
"St. Croix became Alpha two years before you appeared in orbit,"   
Martin said. "It would make a nice neat conspiracy theory to be   
able to say she demoted Gerald just so he could get to you and   
Noriko, but he got kicked back out into the field before you   
ever showed up. His record was as perfect as ever, and that's   
probably why they directed him to watch over you."  
  
Kazumi wanted to meet this Lily St. Croix very much. She held a   
very sharp weapon, and putting it at Aegis Prime's throat might   
enable her to find a way to help Noriko. "What about Beta and   
Gamma? What do you know about them?"  
  
"Not a blessed thing beyond impeccable service records," Martin   
told her, rolling his eyes. "Having met Gerald I believe he's a   
saint, but Schwartzwald and Takashima? If their records weren't   
doctored then I'm heterosexual."  
  
Erde sighed the sigh of a woman much put-upon. "A crude   
statement, but effective. Gerald Hanes is as good as he looks.   
Jani Schwartzwald and Takashima Mindao are, without a doubt, not,   
but so far they've done nothing they shouldn't have."  
  
(Damn. Being able to put them over a barrel along with St. Croix   
would really have helped. Guess I'll have to hope my ace card   
is enough.) "All right. I'll meet them. I've got a very large   
piece of my mind with their names on it, and I intend to make   
them take it and like it," Kazumi said. "When can you get me to   
them?"  
  
Martin said, "Assuming Aegis Prime are all still on Aurora   
Station, we can take an Otherspace shuttle right there. They've   
pretty much given Erde and me unrestricted access to them since   
the Cytherian Amulet died on us, so we can stroll right on in and   
say hello. We'll just fail to remember to mention you're coming   
along for the party."  
  
Kazumi hesitated. She didn't want to leave Noriko, no matter how   
much she did want to confront Aegis Prime. But there was truly   
nothing she could do at this place and time. There were two   
things she did need to do before leaving Europa, though. "Okay.   
I'm in. Just give me a few minutes, and I'll be ready to go."  
  
She left the room, followed by Erde and Martin, and found Gerald   
still with the doctor. The physician wore a look that in   
Kazumi's time was still called "shellshock". (Yeah...   
Horrifying, isn't it.) She could come back to them after she'd   
talked with Edward. "Gerald, have you seen Edward?" she asked.  
  
Gerald simply pointed to where the Avalonian sat slumped on a   
bench against one wall, pressing a light-blue packet to his   
downturned face. Kazumi approached Edward without saying a word,   
waiting for his eyes to lift to her from the floor. The only   
word she could think of to describe his posture was "dejected".   
(It's not his fault... I might want it to be, but it's not his   
fault.) Edward showed no signs of looking up, so she sat next to   
him instead.  
  
"That's a wicked backhand you've got," he said softly. "You play   
tennis?"  
  
"Not if I can help it," Kazumi whispered, unsure of her voice   
amidst the growing regret she felt. "I'm sorry, Edward."  
  
"Sorry for what?" he asked her bitterly. "I should've known not   
to stick my face between you and the doctor. I don't usually   
make a habit out of letting myself get clobbered by women I've   
just met, you know, this was a one-time thing. You caught me   
being stupid."  
  
Could it be? (He's sulking!) "Edward, look at me. Please."  
  
"Why, so you can hit me again?" He did turn his face, however.   
Then, to her surprise, he said in perfectly intelligible   
Japanese, not Hango, "I know I probably don't have any right, but   
I'm as upset about this as you are. I only spoke with Noriko for   
a few minutes but that was more than enough for me to see just   
how wonderful she is. I envy you, being her best friend. She   
must have kept you going when things got tough."  
  
"She did."  
  
"So I mean it when I say that I understand how badly you're   
hurting. And I'd like to help you through this, for her. I know   
we've only just met and my reputation isn't exactly the best,   
but... Please."  
  
What was he trying to say? That he wanted to be her friend?   
Kazumi didn't have any problems with that -- she'd come to   
apologize, after all -- but something was unduly awkward here.   
"I have a feeling we're going to get to know each other very well   
by the time this is over, Edward," she told him. "And I don't   
have any clue about your reputation one way or the other. All I   
know is that you stepped in and put yourself in danger to help us   
on the Cloud Angel, and again to keep me from assaulting that   
poor doctor, and I smacked you for it. If you can forgive me for   
that, I think we're already well on our way to being friends.   
Even *if* we have just met." She smiled at him and offered her   
hand.  
  
It occurred to Kazumi as he took the proffered hand and clasped   
it that she didn't have any idea just how old Edward was. She   
didn't know *anything* about him. In this era of extended   
lifespans... (What a stupid thing to be thinking about,) she   
chastized herself.  
  
"I'm afraid we're going to have to part company for the time   
being," Kazumi continued. "I'm going with Erde and Martin to put   
the screws to their bosses."  
  
"Give 'em Hell," he said, grinning. She nodded her agreement --   
she would most certainly do just that -- and approached Gerald,   
who was now standing alone against the wall of the corridor.  
  
Her adoptive uncle met her gaze unwaveringly, but she could see   
he was wrestling with his feelings, trying to find something to   
say. Kazumi fumbled a couple times with her own words, then gave   
up and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his   
shoulder. Gerald held her close for a long minute, then pushed   
her back gently so he could look at her. "I don't know where to   
begin asking forgiveness," he said bluntly.  
  
"Don't. I shouldn't have acted like that. I was out of control.   
Erde and Martin told me, Gerald. It must have been hard keeping   
secrets from Noriko and me, because I know you've always been   
completely honest with us."  
  
"Except about that," Gerald said sadly. "I was under orders, but   
that really doesn't excuse it."  
  
Kazumi shrugged. "Maybe not, but the fault is with Aegis Prime,   
not you. And I'm going to make them understand that."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I'm going with Erde and Martin to Aurora Station, and I'm going   
to rub their noses in it."  
  
His face hardened. She knew the look -- the expression of an   
elder about to deliver a warning. "That's a very bad idea,   
Kazumi."  
  
"It was a very bad idea to do what Aegis did."  
  
"Two wrongs have never made a right, even in all the time you   
were missing in space," Gerald admonished.  
  
"Maybe not," Kazumi returned, "but they need me. No matter what,   
they can't ignore that."  
  
"I can't change your mind?"  
  
She shook her head. "Sorry. Not this time. Keep an eye on   
Akira, okay? The boy's obviously smitten with Noriko and he's   
going to need some guidance and support."  
  
Gerald frowned. "Maybe, but what about you?"  
  
"I don't have time to crumble now. I'll let you know when I do,   
okay?" Kazumi kissed his dark brown cheek noisily. "I love   
you."  
  
"I love you too, sweetie. Don't do anything stupid out there."   
His eyes were suddenly gleaming in the light from overhead.  
  
"I can't afford to do anything stupid. I've got the entire human   
race counting on me." She kissed Gerald's other cheek, then   
disentangled herself from his arms. Erde had returned to let   
Kazumi know the shuttle was ready. "Time to go."  
  
Kazumi didn't like the sensation of abandoning Gerald, Edward and   
Akira that she was feeling deep inside, but she had to do this.   
For herself and Noriko, she had to face Aegis Prime. (The boys   
will just have to take care of themselves.) Erde was silent as   
they walked toward the exit, where a groundcar was waiting to   
take them across the landing field to the shuttle. Yet another   
person Kazumi knew nothing about, but had nonetheless come to   
depend on in the past few hours despite her flaring emotions.   
(That was a damned nice catch she made. She's probably a lot   
more dangerous than she looks.)  
  
Martin had already plotted their course to the LaGrange-point   
space station while he waited. The shuttle lifted from the icy   
face of Europa and drove into space, throwing open a swirling   
blue gate into the parallel dimension that was Otherspace and   
racing into its warped, distorted world. Soon, she would stand   
face-to-face with the only people she could truly hold   
accountable for what had happened to Noriko. And when she did,   
God had better take pity on them, because Amano Kazumi most   
certainly would not.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
It was cold. The chill seeped through her skin, solidifying her   
blood and turning her bones into brittle shards of ice. Her   
breath was a cloud of jagged crystals which tore at her lungs and   
glowed faintly in the space before her. She was naked, for there   
was nothing to wear, nothing to protect her.  
  
Beneath her was a white metal plain stretching off to some   
indeterminate distance, then stopping suddenly. This truncated   
world curved along one axis but not the other. The sky was a   
shifting aurora of searing radiation and light that did nothing   
to thaw the stygian freeze that gripped her. She stood alone on   
that plain, watching points of brighter luminescence within the   
storm slide past. She was the only thing alive.  
  
She did not know how long she stood there watching the uncaring,   
long-lived stars. She did not know her name, did not know that   
she had once had a name. She had left names behind, left behind   
so many things, cast away everything that had made her what she   
was. Now she was reduced to her essential core, nothing more,   
stripped of all the layers that had once shielded that inner   
essence.  
  
A ghost came to her then, a soul that was not herself. She   
recognized it as a man, knew what a man was when she saw him.   
Unlike her he was not naked; he was protected from the universe.   
He stood next to her and though she could not remember his   
features from one second to the next she could tell his face was   
turned down, bereaved. He did not speak, nor did he look at her.  
  
Now the first uncertainty appeared. She felt that she knew this   
man, this other, but she could not remember who he was and how   
she knew him. That uncertainty made her feel afraid and she   
realized that her one final shield, her ignorance, had now been   
taken away from her.  
  
She opened her mouth and tried to speak, to demand the man's   
identity, his purpose, but there was no sound in this place. She   
lifted her arm to touch him, but no matter how far she reached   
out, she could not make contact. He turned to face her as if   
sensing her efforts, but his expression did not change except to   
grow ever more sad. He had once been important to her. She   
could almost remember his visage. But like his body, his face   
remained just outside her reach.  
  
Now there was another presence, and in the man's arms appeared a   
tiny newborn child, slick with the fluid of the womb, trailing   
into space the bluish and pink umbilical that gave it life,   
silently screaming against the outrage of this universe. An   
instant of hope flared in the man's eyes, but when he looked from   
the infant to her, that hope was dashed.  
  
The stars overhead began to hurry, as if fleeing some cosmic   
catastrophe, and her fear redoubled and redoubled again. She   
knew she would not be able to turn away from what was to come in   
the next instants. The fleeing stars became streaks of rainbow   
light, distorted and disturbed.  
  
Before her, the man began to age, that undefinable face becoming   
first grizzled, then wrinkled. Still the child in his arms   
wailed soundlessly into the void. The man's flesh turned   
paper-thin and his eyes sank into his skull, lips pulling back in   
the leering grin of death. Skeletal arms clutched the infant.   
All the while she stood immobilized, unable to turn away, unable   
to protect herself from the horror. The skeleton lifted one   
accusing finger, pointed straight at her heart, and then it and   
the child were blown away as a cloud of dust, and once again she   
was alone.  
  
Beneath her the metal plain began to change, the pristine white   
being fouled with pockmarks and rents as the metal aged and   
succumbed to some unknowable stress. The fleeing rainbow streaks   
began to flare into blinding brilliance, then disappear. Each   
one that vanished left a portion of the storming aurora black,   
empty, and soon there was nothing above her. Great panels of the   
white plane were lifted away and torn to oblivion. She was left   
standing on a single shred of white in the middle of an endless   
void, and soon that shred faded to black.  
  
All was nothingness.  
  
Jung Freud awoke, screaming as she had never screamed before,   
giving vent to the soul-atomizing terror which had filled her.   
Her hands clutched at something which shrouded her, something   
real, something other than herself. Her eyes were squeezed shut,   
protection against further violation. She trembled   
uncontrollably. There was a hiss, and the sound of feet striking   
a hard floor, approaching her. But she could not open her eyes,   
could not make herself risk watching this world be stripped away   
like the last. The cold had left her aching in every muscle,   
tendon and bone, and her lungs were on fire.  
  
Voices babbled softly in a language she could almost understand,   
reassuring her a tiny fraction of this world's reality. A warm   
touch brushed the fingers of her left hand, but it still was not   
enough. Any moment now, the stars would flee, sensing that the   
universe was about to be destroyed, and she would be left in that   
horrid void once more.  
  
That was when one of the voices, warm and paternal, spoke her   
name. "Jung Freud."  
  
Still fearing the inevitable, she slowly opened her eyes. Soft   
light came from an indeterminate source in the ceiling above her,   
a ceiling that was white like that pristine plain on which she   
had stood. Around her stood living, breathing human beings, men   
and women in white and pale greenish-blue. Doctors and nurses.  
  
She was in a hospital.  
  
The one who had spoken to her was a bald man with a   
neatly-trimmed, gray-shot brown beard and kindly eyes decorated   
with crow's-feet and glasses. When their eyes met the man   
smiled. He spoke again in that language Jung could almost   
understand. It sounded somewhat like Japanese. In fact, he said   
a few words that she knew amid the babble. "...welcome...   
world... living."  
  
His accent was as strange as the mixed tongue he spoke, and that   
incongruity made Jung feel the fear begin to rise within herself   
again. "I don't understand," she whispered in Japanese, hoping   
he would recognize what she was saying. The sound of her own   
voice, however faint, was like a talisman against the fear, and   
she focused her efforts, raising her voice -- a voice which, she   
now remembered, she had not used in a very long time. "I don't   
understand what you're saying to me," she told the man.  
  
He did not respond immediately, instead consulting the wall over   
her head for some unfathomable reason, then speaking to his   
cohorts. The others began filing out of the room, their gazes   
lingering on Jung for as long as possible. Only when the door   
slid back into place did the man speak. Of what he said, the   
only word Jung recognized was "healthy". She couldn't tell if he   
was saying that she was healthy, or that they would get her that   
way eventually. Seeing her confusion, the doctor frowned in   
thought, then squeezed her left hand gently and gave her a   
universal gesture -- a thumb extended upward from a clenched   
fist.  
  
Her fear broke with a giggle.  
  
The doctor continued to babble, adding a great deal of   
gesticulation to his words. He pointed to the door, and she   
gathered he meant those who had just left; from the   
downward-pointed wiggle of two fingers she understood him to be   
speaking of someone going somewhere; he waved as if inviting   
someone into the room, then waved his hand between his mouth and   
this invisible third-party, then from that person to Jung's ears.   
Then his hand traveled from her mouth to the imaginary visitor   
and back to his own ears. (An interpreter. Someone's going to   
get an interpreter.) She nodded her understanding and tried not   
to think about the all-consuming ache she felt.  
  
The doctor fell silent, becoming a simple, reassuring presence   
that allowed Jung to face what she had experienced in her   
nightmare-universe. That white metal plain she recognized almost   
instantly: the hull of Eltreum. She had stood atop the white   
goddess of humanity's hope and gazed on the core of the galaxy.  
  
The man who had appeared could have only been... Something new   
stabbed at Jung's heart. Regret. (Andrei.) Now that she could   
give him a name, his face solidified from the shifting vagueness.   
It had been Andrei, the man she had almost married, the man with   
whom she had brought a new life into the world in the year 3062,   
two years after the Eltreum had finally returned to Earth. In   
his arms he had held their little girl, Irina. Andrei and Irina,   
the lover and daughter she had abandoned, had returned to condemn   
her in this unknown future. Putting names to their ghosts   
dispelled the horror of the vision of Andrei's body decaying as   
time separated them, but it could not assuage her guilt. (I left   
them because I could not live without two others. I left them   
because I loved another more than I loved them.)  
  
But it could not be changed. She had done everything she could   
to provide for them when she made her deal with the devil, and by   
now they were probably long dead. Jung considered asking God to   
forgive her, but growing up in a mostly atheist society made it   
hard to believe that any being grand enough to create the   
universe would care about one single human being. Besides, now   
that she was awake, there was surely work to be done. That was   
the stipulation.  
  
To see Noriko and Kazumi again, Jung had sold her soul.  
  
There were no tears. She had cried herself out when she had made   
her decision, cast her lot. She had no tears left, not after   
Andrei's shock at her betrayal. Not after Irina's wailing as her   
father took her away from her mother for the last time. No,   
there were no tears left to cry. Now there was only the   
certainty that someone had invoked the contract she had made.  
  
Clearly she remembered the conversation with the men from some   
arcane cabal calling itself Aegis, after Zeus's impenetrable   
shield. She would be frozen, and in exchange, Andrei and Irina   
would be taken care of for the rest of their lives and the lives   
of their descendants. At some unforseeable date in the future,   
one of two things would happen, and Jung Freud would wake --   
either Amano Kazumi and Takaya Noriko would reappear, to be   
greeted with a message spanning the face of the globe welcoming   
them home, or the Earth would be faced with a threat that would   
require the one remaining Gunbuster pilot to face it.  
  
She didn't dare believe that she had been awakened just because   
Kazumi and Noriko had returned; not after what she had done.  
  
The doctor shifted where he stood next to the bed on which Jung   
lay, but he did not speak. She glanced at him and he smiled   
reassuringly; for some reason she felt as if she were in the   
presence of her grandfather. He kept watching something over her   
head. Curiosity made Jung raise and turn her head in an effort   
to catch a glimpse of what was so interesting. Without sitting   
up, she could just barely make out a flat display panel and   
colored lights of readouts. (Some sort of monitor, probably   
tuned to me.) She relaxed and sighed softly. It was comforting   
to know she was being watched even should the man turn his eyes   
away. (After that dream, I'll never complain about a lack of   
privacy again.)  
  
She wished she could ask the man what year it was. She wished   
she could ask him if the two women for whom she had given up   
everything had returned from the depths of space. She wished she   
could--  
  
Her stomach growled. (I wish I could get something to eat.) The   
sheer mundanity of her physical need interrupted her   
soul-searching. She laughed at herself and the ridiculousness of   
her situation. (If my father had known what would happen to me,   
he never would have let me run off to Archangel to enlist at the   
Cosmo Battle School. I wonder what my life would have been like.   
Boring as Hell, probably. I wouldn't have gotten as far as   
Helsinki, never mind the core of the galaxy.)  
  
The doctor pushed up one sleeve and consulted a wristwatch. (At   
least that much hasn't changed.) He frowned, not liking what he   
saw, and mimed taking a bite of a sandwich. (My hero.) Jung   
nodded her agreement. (That's assuming I can even handle solid   
food after what I've been through. With my luck I'll be eating   
paste like the first cosmonauts for months.) The doctor left her   
side only to cross the room and press something on a panel next   
to the sliding door and speak; Jung caught only the word "eat",   
but she had no trouble catching his annoyance when he added a   
second sentence. He muttered to himself as he broke the   
connection, and Jung stifled another laugh. (He really does   
strike me as a grandfather.)  
  
When he returned to her side, he began helping her sit up,   
supporting her and propping the pillows up behind her back. (I   
wonder how long I'm going to hurt like this,) Jung thought as she   
grit her teeth against the ache. For something to take her mind   
off the pain, she tapped herself lightly and said, "Jung Freud."   
Then she extended her hand invitingly to the doctor.  
  
He frowned for a moment, then caught on and laughed at himself.   
"Jaromir. Jaromir Karyo." Then Jaromir took her hand and bowed   
over it extravagantly.  
  
(That name... Czech, I think. That would probably explain the   
accent. I must have sounded similar when I was first learning   
Japanese.) At least the man wasn't behaving like a fawning   
idiot. When the fleet had returned to Earth in 3060 the   
survivors of Operation Calnedias, herself in particular, had been   
subjected to a merciless onslaught of attention and adoration.   
(Between the utter lack of personal space and the way the world   
had left only a few lingering traces of what we used to know...   
That must have been what killed poor old Admiral Tashiro.) The   
suicide rate in the first year had been shocking. (It might have   
even killed me, in the end. For all intents and purposes it   
did.)  
  
Hoping against hope that Jaromir wouldn't understand her question   
and tell her something she didn't really want to hear, Jung asked   
the bald doctor, "Year?"  
  
He just frowned and shook his head.  
  
(I probably shouldn't ask that when the interpreter gets here. I   
don't know if I can handle finding out how much time has passed.)   
Her mouth quirked wryly. (Of course, I'll have to find out some   
time, and I really doubt only a couple decades have passed.   
Everyone is long gone, so it doesn't really matter how many   
centuries it's been.)  
  
Jaromir checked his watch again and was about to cross back to   
the panel next to the door to complain when the door slid open to   
admit an orderly pushing a wheeled cart carrying two trays.   
Jaromir thanked the man profusely, took the cart and shooed him   
from the room. He said something to Jung that she wished she   
could have understood, because it was probably rather funny; she   
could tell from his manner that Jaromir must be quite the wit.   
He pushed the cart over to the bed and lifted one of the trays   
from it. He extended small legs from the bottom of this tray,   
then placed it quite carefully over Jung's lap.  
  
(Well, I'll be. Breakfast in bed.)  
  
Before her sat a simple peanut butter sandwich on plain white   
bread. It wasn't a four star French dinner, but at that very   
moment that simple little sandwich looked like manna from Heaven.   
(I haven't had one of these since I was a kid. Well, nothing   
left but to try it. Here goes.) With great care Jung lifted a   
triangular half of the sandwich from the tray and brought it to   
her suddenly watering mouth. She took one small, cautious bite.  
  
It was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. Before she   
could stop herself she tore into the sandwich, devouring it at a   
rate which took Jaromir quite aback. He watched her with his own   
untouched sandwich in his hands, his jaw slightly slack. After   
she swallowed the last bite and took a gulp from the cup of milk   
that sat next to the crumbs which were all that remained, Jung   
looked at Jaromir and smiled sheepishly, a faint blush heating   
her cheeks. "Sorry. Guess I was hungrier than I thought," she   
said aloud. The doctor's mouth closed with a faint clack of   
teeth.  
  
(Well, that's one question answered. I can eat solid food.) She   
took up a white linen napkin from the tray and wiped her mouth,   
then set it down and beamed. (Things are looking up already.)   
At that moment the door opened again and a handsome, tall blond   
man in what appeared to be a relative of a business suit entered.   
Jaromir asked him a question, then sighed in relief. After a   
brief exchange, the newcomer looked at Jung and spoke in   
intelligible, if strangely-accented, Russian.  
  
"I'm sorry for the delay, Miss Freud. My shuttle was late, and I   
had just touched down when they came looking for me to tell me   
you were awake. My name is Philip Campbell. I'm to be your   
interpreter until you can learn one or more of the languages of   
today."  
  
Jung considered this Philip Campbell closely. His name sounded   
American, or perhaps Canadian. His accent was neither, however;   
she couldn't place it. (It's entirely possible neither America   
nor Canada exist any more.) "Nice to meet you, Philip."  
  
"Dr. Karyo assures me that you've recovered well from your   
cryostasis."  
  
"That remains to be seen," Jung told him, "but at least I can eat   
a sandwich. I hurt all over."  
  
Philip said something to Jaromir, who replied at length. "That's   
to be expected," Philip translated, "from the extended duration   
of your sleep. The stimulators that kept your body from   
atrophying around you were basically running electric currents   
through you the whole time. You should be fine with some   
exercise and normal rest."  
  
"I can handle that." She couldn't avoid it any longer; she had   
to know. "I want to know what year it is."  
  
Again Philip conferred with Jaromir; this time, both men were   
frowning. Eventually, Philip said, "I hope you will understand,   
Miss Freud, when I tell you that I am reluctant to answer that   
question at this time."  
  
"I have a right to know," Jung asserted.  
  
"Yes," Philip agreed, "you do indeed, but are you certain you   
will be able to handle the answer? You have just been through   
the only successful cryostasis sleep in human history, and I've   
read all about what happened when you returned to Earth in 3060.   
I have studied the psychological impact that a thousand-year   
transposition in time had on you and your fellows. I'd feel   
very, very bad if I were the one responsible for making the   
legendary Jung Freud go insane just after she woke up." He could   
have been concerned only with his reputation, but Jung could tell   
that he was honestly concerned for her well-being. She decided   
to return to the question of dates later.  
  
"I assume you know about the people I made a deal with," she   
said.  
  
Philip nodded. "I work for Aegis, which is why I was selected to   
be your pet linguist."  
  
Jung laughed, and when Philip explained the joke to the confused   
Jaromir, the doctor joined her. "If you work for Aegis, then you   
must know the details of my contract with them."  
  
Another nod. "I do."  
  
"So you'll tell me why they woke me up?" Her heart started   
pounding in her chest.  
  
Philip looked uncomfortable. "I... am not at liberty to discuss   
that with you at this time."  
  
"You won't tell me when I am. You won't tell me why I'm awake.   
What use are you?" Jung thought she might leap out of the bed   
and strangle the linguist. (So much for liking this guy.)  
  
Philip drew back a centimeter or so from the scowl on her face.   
"I'm sorry that I have to keep you in the dark, but it's only for   
a little bit. Once we're sure that you're perfectly recovered   
and ready to hear about such things, I'll be perfectly happy to   
tell you anything you want to know. Right now I'm supposed to   
interpret for you so that you and the doctors can communicate,   
and I'm supposed to tutor you in a language of your choice."  
  
"Oh? And what are my choices?"  
  
"The easiest languages for you to learn would be Hango or   
Canamerican. Hango, because you are fluent in Japanese, one of   
its major forefathers, and Canamerican likewise because you are   
fluent in English, which was its primary basis."  
  
"Which would be easier for you?"  
  
"Canamerican is my native language, but I have extensive fluency   
in Hango as well as several other languages. It's my career,   
after all."  
  
"Do I have any other options?" Jung asked.  
  
"Canamerican and Hango would be your best choices, since they're   
the two most prevalent languages in our society. It would be   
easiest for me to help you learn either of those two."  
  
Jung turned a sneer on the linguist. "I'm not interested in   
making things easy for you. You wanna give me a hard time?   
Fine, I'll give you one. See if you like it."  
  
Philip looked at Jaromir. The doctor had an expression of   
concern on his face. He obviously didn't understand a word of   
what was being said, but Jung's attitude was obvious. The two   
men spoke again in what must have been that Hango that Philip had   
told her about. (Why would an American and a Czech be speaking   
in an Asian language?) she wondered privately.  
  
At length Philip turned back to Jung. "I can see you're still   
not one hundred percent. We can start later, when you're feeling   
better. I'm looking forward to working with you," he told her.   
Jung thought he was lying. "If you'll please excuse me, I have a   
few calls I have to make. I won't be gone long." With that the   
linguist strode from the room.  
  
When the door hissed closed, Jung picked up her glass of milk and   
her napkin, handed them calmly to the still-confused Jaromir, and   
then picked up her tray and threw it at the door with a shriek of   
frustration. "I wish *you* would turn into a skeleton and blow   
away!" she shouted.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Left alone with her thoughts, Kazumi found herself thinking about   
her husband. Neither of them had really given serious thought to   
having children. The alien threat and their dedication to   
defending humanity had pretty much ruled that out from the start,   
but if she forced herself to be honest, Kazumi had to admit that   
other things had held her back -- like the fact that she knew she   
would be widowed young. It wouldn't be fair to bring a child   
into the world knowing that its father would be gone early in its   
life. Bearing a child just to keep a piece of Koichiro had   
always struck Kazumi as selfish anyway.  
  
Had they had children, things certainly would have turned out   
differently. Kazumi never would have left Earth to take Buster   
Machine Three to the galactic core for Operation Calnedias, and   
she never would have seen Noriko again. Again forcing herself to   
be honest, Kazumi admitted that she probably would not have been   
able to survive that loss. There was more to that "something   
special" about Noriko that Koichiro had always sensed than just   
an ability to make Gunbuster -- a weapon system designed around   
Kazumi herself -- perform perfectly on her own. Noriko reached   
deep into the hearts of those she met and, fight it though they   
might, she somehow made them come to love her.  
  
No, she would not have survived losing both Koichiro and Noriko.   
It was indeed best that Amano Kazumi had never borne a child.  
  
Kazumi wondered what Koichiro would say if he knew she had become   
Earth's primary defender. Knowing her husband as well as she   
did, he would just nod with that faint smile of his and say, "As   
it should be." She'd done it once before, after all, why not   
twice? Perhaps he was love-blind where it came to his wife, but   
Kazumi certainly wasn't going to complain. The very fact that he   
loved her that much had always kept her going during the tough   
times.  
  
It suddenly occurred to Kazumi that she was anxiously awaiting   
the day when she would be able to see what Aegis would make from   
her husband's life's work. Would they try to keep the original   
blueprint? Gunbuster's frame was a mangled mess. She couldn't   
see any way that they could use it as the core of the new   
Gunbuster. What they would probably wind up doing was ripping   
out and cannibalizing anything they could salvage, including the   
surviving collapser engine. (*Especially* the surviving   
collapser engine.)  
  
After that, the question was: would they construct a single unit,   
or keep to the design of the original Gunbuster and build two   
separate machine weapons which could then unify into the giant   
humanoid? It had seemed integral to Aegis's plan, as laid out to   
Kazumi, that there be two Pilots, so it made sense that they   
would be basing the design on the original two-machine scheme.   
But that meant one of two things. Either one of the new Buster   
Machines would be built without a collapser engine, severely   
reducing its power, or Aegis would attempt to duplicate the   
collapser. (Building a collapser from scratch would take long   
enough. Retroengineering one twelve thousand years after the   
fact and then building it, with the only model being a collapser   
that very well might never function again, would take far longer   
than we supposedly have. So that pretty much rules out option   
number two. But a Buster Machine without a collapser isn't much   
of a Buster Machine.  
  
(So what the hell are they going to do?)  
  
Kazumi considered asking Erde, but the other woman was apparently   
asleep, and Martin was busy piloting the shuttle. They would   
arrive at the station soon enough, anyway, and she would have the   
opportunity to demand the information from the masterminds of the   
entire scheme.  
  
Unable to answer her own question, Kazumi turned her thoughts to   
speculating what the new Gunbuster would look like. She had   
never voiced the thought to anyone, but she'd always felt that   
the original looked a bit like the Tin Woodsman from that old   
American movie, "The Wizard of Oz". The fact that one of the   
original design plans had called for Gunbuster to carry a   
battle-axe of enormous proportions didn't help the image much.   
Love Gunbuster though she did, Kazumi still believed she would   
have shaped it quite differently.  
  
Gunbuster's shape had been simplistic, predicated upon ultimate   
function contained within an easily-built, rounded form. It was   
odd to Kazumi that the same minds that had taken such a practical   
route with humanity's ultimate weapon had put such effort into   
the aesthetic appeal of humanity's ultimate starships, Exelion   
and Eltreum. Built to resemble those giant-scale birds of prey,   
Gunbuster would have been as elegant as it was deadly. That was   
more how Kazumi would have built it, perhaps with a shining pair   
of energy-scattering wings to serve as a shield instead of--  
  
She couldn't help but laugh. The Buster Shield, which had   
protected her against enemy assaults of frightening magnitude,   
looked like nothing so much as a cape Bela Lugosi would wear when   
playing Dracula.  
  
No, the shield definitely would not have been a cape. Wings that   
enfolded Gunbuster to serve the same purpose, yes, that was it.   
The body itself, the Buster Machines which made it up, would have   
resembled more closely something from an old mecha animation.  
  
Perhaps it was the influence of her grandfather, who had for   
years been a concept artist for video games, that led Kazumi to   
such thoughts. Grandpa Yoshi had always had some new sketch or   
watercolor to show her when she went to visit, and before she had   
decided to join the Space Force, Kazumi had thought she might   
follow in his footsteps. Maybe a bit of his vision was lurking   
in her blood. The thought was a pleasant one.  
  
Still chuckling to herself, Kazumi added, (Maybe I can make a few   
modifications to their blueprints. And I definitely must insist   
on the skinsuit covering more of my body. The old ones *must*   
have been designed by a man.)  
  
Aesthetics and skin covering aside, it had been four years since   
Kazumi had even given thought to piloting so much as a car. She   
was bound to be more than a bit rusty. These super-modern people   
would doubtless have simulators, but simulation wasn't reality.   
She would have to secure flight time somehow, probably with   
multiple weapon systems. (They don't have anything resembling   
the RX in this century and I doubt they have anything that   
handles close to a Buster Machine. This is going to be rough.)  
  
And then there was... (Edward.) It was high time she started   
thinking about dating again, if for nothing more than social   
contact beyond adoring crowds and hounding media. Edward seemed   
to be a nice enough guy. Gerald had had a hovering look about   
him throughout dinner, though, and Kazumi trusted her uncle's   
judgement implicitly. She didn't think Gerald was the kind who   
would glower at any man coming into range of his neice, so he   
must have known or sensed something about Edward... (Maybe it   
was the way Edward looked so poleaxed when he saw me. It was   
flattering in the extreme, but honestly.)  
  
It was still a little difficult for Kazumi to judge people's   
relative maturity in this era. People lived twice as long, but   
children still physically aged at about the same rate. Somewhere   
in late adolescence things slowed down, but it was hard to tell   
precisely when. One moment Edward had seemed to have years of   
experience in the fine art of social interaction, and the next   
he'd have that stunned expression as if he'd never had simple   
dinner conversation at a formal gathering before. (But only when   
he was looking at me. He handled Noriko, Gerald, even Akira   
without so much as a blink. Of course, Akira seems to have the   
same reaction to Noriko that Edward does to me. Odd.)  
  
Poor Akira. Just last week he was nothing more than an extreme   
sportsman, and now he was sitting in a hospital with his hand   
numbed by an illegal neural disruptor during a firefight between   
terrorists and agents of a worldwide conspiracy. And the   
apparent object of his affection was hovering just this side of   
the line between life and death, gunned down by those same   
terrorists with those same weapons. Kazumi's heart skipped a   
beat as she thought of Noriko, but she thrust her emotions aside.   
Noriko would recover. Kazumi had complete faith in her young   
friend, her sister. She had to, or life wasn't really worth   
living.  
  
She looked down at the gown she wore and sighed softly. (I left   
everything back on the Cloud Angel, and I seriously doubt they'll   
shuttle me down to the planet just to change clothes. Maybe I   
can borrow something to wear.)  
  
Kazumi closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the   
soft seat. There was one other thing she needed to ask Aegis   
Prime when they arrived at the station. The bespectacled face of   
the man who had shot Noriko in the back and paid the ultimate   
price for his crime appeared in her mind's eye. Who was he? Why   
had he done it? What possible reason did he have to want Noriko   
dead? It did no good to speculate, but Kazumi could not stop   
herself from asking: did the man somehow know about Noriko's   
strange ability to regenerate her nervous system, was he just   
testing her somehow? Or was it just coincidence that the man had   
tried to kill Noriko with the one weapon that could not do the   
job?  
  
(The one weapon that could not do the job... I don't know if   
anything can kill Noriko. She's survived alien assaults, a   
direct hit from a weapon that's far more lethal to anyone else   
than a simple bullet or laser, even despair that would have made   
someone else waste away to nothing. I'm beginning to think she's   
more than human, somehow. Well, maybe not more than human.   
Just... more human than the rest of us. Some kind of expression   
of a more fully-realized potential. I wonder if we'll ever   
know.)  
  
Meanwhile, mere mortals like Amano Kazumi had been through a very   
rough day, and dinner had been several hours ago. Deciding that   
the universe wouldn't fall apart just yet, she let go of her   
conscious control of her thoughts and drifted off into a light   
doze.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Edward pressed his hands firmly against his temples in an effort   
to mitigate the astonishing pain that throbbed through his skull,   
to no avail. It never worked, no matter how many times he tried.   
Mostly it was his father's fault; after all, the harangues that   
Avalonian President Charles Peter Windsor-Mountbatten was capable   
of delivering were legendary, and usually directed at his son.   
Just like now.  
  
"I didn't want you going in the first place. I finally go   
against my better judgement and let you go blundering off to   
Saturn, risking complete political disaster should you decide to   
turn the event into another of your little 'fishing trips', and   
instead you get the most prestigious cruise liner in the solar   
system destroyed. Couldn't you contain your predilection for   
disaster to females? Did you have to blow up an entire *ship*?"  
  
It wouldn't help to explain that the destruction of Cloud Angel   
hadn't been Edward's fault. It had nothing to do with him. The   
target, if any single human being could be said to be the target,   
had apparently been Takaya Noriko. Okay, so Edward's natural   
tendency to approach beautiful young women had led him into   
contact with Takaya. Well, that and the fact that he knew if   
Takaya was present, Amano would be nearby. It still wasn't his   
fault that he just happened to be there. Unless one believed in   
fate or divine intervention, that is.  
  
As for Kazumi-- (One dinner and already I'm thinking about her on   
a personal-name basis? Presumptous, Edward.) --there had simply   
been no way for him to prepare himself for her mind-stunning   
beauty, both outer and inner.  
  
(I made an even more complete fool of myself than usual.)  
  
"Edward!"  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"What the hell is the matter with you?"  
  
(Oh, nothing. I just got shot at, nearly blown up, carted off to   
Europa and clobbered by the most beautiful woman in the   
universe.) "I'm sorry." (Sorry I'm such an idiot.)  
  
"You always are. I don't know how you got onto an SLDF military   
base, but I want you back here. Now."  
  
Edward squeezed harder, wondered if perhaps he could just crush   
his own head and get it over with. "Yes, sir."  
  
The connection with Earth was broken without so much as a   
fare-thee-well. Edward had no idea why he tolerated his father's   
abuse. It was probably because the man was the most powerful in   
all of Avalon, but there was always the possibility that Jayne   
had been right when she'd said, "You're sick. You like hurting   
yourself and others." That had been right after Jayne had   
learned about Gabriella, and right before she'd walked out the   
door forever.  
  
He leaned back in the chair and wondered if he could get one of   
the SLDF officers to shoot him. It would be better than the   
headache, better than the dread of his father's renewed and   
escalated wrath, better than the embarrassment. He had acted   
just like a child, eagerly volunteering to take his father's   
place on the list of esteemed guests aboard Cloud Angel the   
moment he'd learned that Kazumi was also invited. Charles Peter   
had little patience for frivolous social functions, but Charles   
Edward thrived on them, so it didn't take too much of a Herculean   
effort for the son to convince the father of the idea's worth.  
  
Edward had been preparing for years to meet Amano Kazumi.   
Studying every biographical detail. Forcing himself to endure   
the torturous lessons in an ancient language which bore only a   
passing resemblance to Hango. Hating the greedy media for   
invading her privacy because she obviously would not let herself   
hate them. (If she had any idea the effort I've put forth in the   
past four years, she'd have me arrested and locked up for the   
rest of my life as a stalker, probably. What was I thinking,   
anyway?)  
  
In a way, the welt on his cheek was a kind of... liberation.   
Kazumi had no compunction restraining her from hauling off and   
levelling him. (She probably has no idea just how much I   
deserved that drubbing.) So as he sat in this quiet, private   
room in the hospital wing of a Saturn Local Defense Force base on   
the icy surface of Europa, his head threatening to explode in a   
noxious mess at any moment, dreading his ordered return to   
London, Charles Edward Windsor-Mountbatten found he truly admired   
Amano Kazumi more than he would have ever thought possible. No   
starry-eyed hero-worship, this, no base-level desire. (She's so   
much more than I could ever be. I wouldn't stand a chance.)  
  
The door hissed open to admit a bleary-eyed Gerald Hanes. Edward   
greeted the dark Canamerican with a simple grunt of   
acknowledgement, then closed his own eyes for a brief moment.   
Just moving his eyeballs hurt. Maybe he could get something for   
the pain from one of the doctors...  
  
"You look like Hell," Hanes said bluntly.  
  
"I feel like Dante's ninth circle at the moment," Edward agreed   
as amiably as he could. "My father just got done chewing the   
left half of my ass off, and he's ordered me back to London for   
the second course."  
  
"After all the crap we've been through tonight, I don't think   
anybody deserves that."  
  
Edward shrugged, then regretted it. "I'm used to it. What's the   
word on Akira?"  
  
"They had to sedate him. Everything got to be too much and he   
snapped. Started throwing everything he could get his one   
functioning hand on." Gerald shook his head ruefully. "I think   
he could have handled everything that happened if only Noriko   
hadn't been attacked."  
  
"He does seem rather enamored of the young lady," Edward   
observed. Akira's liking of Noriko was indeed patently obvious,   
had been the entire time they'd sat together at dinner.  
  
Edward expected Hanes to draw a parallel with his own attraction   
to Kazumi, but the Canamerican simply nodded his agreement. "I'm   
worried about him. He's going to need somebody around that he   
can hang on to for a while, make sure he gets back on his feet.   
With what he's seen and heard, he can't just go back to his old   
life, and I don't know who I can trust to keep an eye on him.   
Unfortunately I won't be able to do it myself."  
  
"Unfortunately?"  
  
"He's a good kid, and it was my idea to bring him 'into the   
fold,' so to speak. I know I can trust him around Noriko."  
  
(Unlike me with Kazumi?) Edward sighed in his mind. (Still, I   
don't think he's asking me to watch over the boy. Which means...   
Dear God, male bonding. Hell just froze over.) "Anyone who   
makes a hobby of jumping out of orbital shuttles has to have   
either nerves of steel or brains of pudding. Maybe both. Akira   
doesn't strike me as the brainless type. Don't worry, he'll make   
it. Any idea how long until he can use that hand again?"  
  
"I asked about that. Doctor tells me that he should regain most   
of his hand's ability within a month. If something should go   
wrong, they could always use bionic implants, but implants have   
never functioned very well." Hanes closed his mouth to stop what   
Edward guessed would have been a stream of self-recrimination,   
from the tone of the Canamerican's voice. Hanes seemed to be   
holding together well, but if Edward was having trouble, he   
couldn't even begin to guess how difficult things were for   
Gerald. Hanes looked the very picture of weariness as he sat   
slowly on the room's single bed. "All told, this has been one   
bad day."  
  
(Just who is this man?) Edward found himself wondering as the   
room lapsed into silence again. (Every time I get a glimpse of   
him, there's always something lurking in the shadows behind it.)   
"Maybe you should get some sleep."  
  
"I'll sleep when I'm dead," said Hanes. "What I really need is   
an extra-strong cup of really hot coffee. Unfortunately, I've   
got a lot of things I need to handle and they all involve me   
heading back to Earth. I hate leaving Noriko here, but I just   
can't help it. Which means," he said as he rubbed his eyes,   
"that I feel like I'm abandoning both Noriko and Akira."  
  
"Why doesn't Aegis move Noriko back?" Edward asked him.  
  
Hanes scowled a thunderhead in Edward's general direction.   
"You've seen and heard a lot of things tonight that you probably   
shouldn't have." The Canamerican was silent after that, but   
Edward caught his meaning. Edward would need to keep his lips   
firmly sealed regarding everything that he had learned tonight,   
or the consequences would of necessity be dire. At Edward's nod   
of acknowledgement, Hanes continued, "But to answer your   
question, Aegis will be moving Noriko when we're sure she can   
survive the trip. Right now she stays here, under guard and out   
of harm's way."  
  
It did make sense. Europa was the best-defended moon in the   
Saturn system and they were in the middle of the strongest   
military base on that moon. Anyone Noriko would want to see   
would already have clearance to get in, and no one who shouldn't   
know what had happened -- or where she was -- would be able to   
get through. The solution to Hanes's other problem presented   
itself at that moment, and Edward said, "Why not keep Akira here   
with her? He's not doing so well himself, being near her would   
help him out, it would keep someone Noriko knows and can trust   
nearby should she come out of her coma before you can return, and   
it would most certainly keep Akira out of trouble."  
  
Hanes ruminated on this for a bit. Then he licked his lips. "I   
don't like keeping him from his family, but you're right. He   
could get in a lot of trouble right now, and we need to keep him   
with people who can help him. I might have to make it an order,   
but if I do, he'll obey it. Not like he'd have much choice. I   
doubt he can pilot anything more advanced than an orbital   
shuttle. When we leave, he's stuck. Thanks."  
  
"You saved my life tonight," Edward told him. "It was the least   
I could do. When are you leaving?"  
  
"Immediately, if not sooner."  
  
"I might as well catch a ride with you, then," said Edward.  
  
"Sounds like a plan. I'll go doublecheck on Akira one last time   
and leave his orders, then arrange for a shuttle."  
  
"I'll see if I can get something for my head. Meet you at the   
landing field?"  
  
"Right." Hanes stood from the bed and crossed to the door, then   
turned and looked at Edward. "I've got a feeling that you'll get   
a chance to pay me back that favor before this is all over."   
With that, he was gone.  
  
(Yes, I'll get something for my head,) Edward repeated to   
himself, (like a bomb.)  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
This is the current limit of progress on Amulet of the Sun, but  
since I have returned from exile (no phone, therefore no internet  
access) I have been able to restart work. More should be coming  
soon.  
  
The same Special Thanks apply as for Part One. 


End file.
